


Attraction

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-27
Updated: 2006-03-01
Packaged: 2018-08-15 16:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 45,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8062828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Unknowingly, the Enterprise enters a psychic cloud, plunging two of the crew into a limbo that dwarfs understanding. (08/16/2003)





	1. Doorway

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

The Captain was irritated. He sat with Sub-Commander T'Pol waiting to be served breakfast in the Captain's dining room. There was no sign of Commander Tucker. The Vulcan watched the way his lips flattened with annoyance and eyes narrowed. While she could understand the Captain's irritation at the Commander's tardiness she could not understand his insistence in the ritual of taking meals with him. If the Commander wished to eat in the mess hall was that not his decision to make? Looking at the Captain's face she decided it was not. She could not understand the human's constant desire for companionship. As if he had a need for continual reassurance. Surely that was the purpose of his smelly quadruped? It was juvenile. The man was an adult. He should stand on his own two feet and act like one. You would not find a Vulcan acting in such a self indulgent manner. Her thoughts were distracted when Captain Archer stood up and went to the com on the wall. "Commander Tucker!"

No response. He tried Engineering. "Engineering, is Commander Tucker there?"

"No, sir."

"Who's that?"

"Lt Hess, sir."

"Good. Lieutenant it appears the Commander has overslept. Please ask a crewman to go and wake him immediately."

"Yes, sir."

He returned to the table and nodded to the steward to serve breakfast. They ate in silence. Sub-Commander T'Pol felt a sense of relief when the meal was over. She was about to excuse herself as the plates were taken away when the Captain's com activated. He answered immediately. "Captain Archer."

"Captain, it's Dr. Phlox."

"Doctor? What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you but could you please come to sickbay?"

"What's the matter?"

"Something appears to be wrong with Commander Tucker."

He looked at the Sub-Commander. His anger at Trip replaced by sudden concern. "I'm on my way."

T'Pol went with him. When they got to sickbay they were met by a rather puzzled Dr Phlox. Commander Tucker lay on a biobed seemingly fast asleep. As he turned his head the Captain glimpsed another of his officers on another biobed. He was surprised to see it was Lt Reed. He looked at the doctor. "What's going on? What happened to Lt Reed?"

"I do not know, Captain, but shortly after Crewman Waters alerting me to the fact that he could not wake the Commander I got a similar call from Crewman Short about Lt Reed." He looked baffled. "As far as I can tell neither man is injured. They are simply asleep."

"Then wake them up."

"I am rather reluctant to do that, Captain."

"Why? You said they were asleep."

"Yes, but without knowing why they cannot wake I am reluctant to do something that may make matters worse."

"Worse?"

Just then Ensign Cutler interrupted. She was standing next to Lt Reed. "Doctor, I think the lieutenant is waking."

All heads turned towards Lt Reed. Dr Phlox walked over to check on him. As he reached the biobed the lieutenant's eyes opened. Captain Archer joined the doctor and smiled down at his Armoury Officer. "Good morning, sleepy head."

Lt Reed frowned at the odd term of address then looked at the bright array of lights above his head, squinted and realised where he was. "What am I doing in sickbay?"

Ensign Cutler helped him sit up. Dr Phlox was peering at him, a scanner in hand. "How do you feel?"

He raised a hopeful eyebrow. "Like this is a bad dream?"

The Captain chuckled. Just then Sub-Commander T'Pol spoke. She was still standing by the Commander's biobed. He had not woken yet. "Doctor, I believe the Commander is in distress."

They hurried over to Trip's bed. Although he was still lying as quietly as before, there was now a thin trickle of blood running out of his right ear. Unnoticed, Lt Reed slipped off his bed and joined the others. His sensitive face showed his concern. *Trip? What the bloody hell is happening?*

A sluggish response echoed back at him. *Damned if I know. How'd we end up in the Twilight Zone?*

*You're bleeding*

*I am?*

*Yes. From your ear*

*Something hit me?*

*Not that I know of*

*Where am I?*

*Sick bay. When you failed to show up for breakfast at the Captain's Table he sent a crewman round to check on you*

*Surprised I'm not in the brig*

That made the lieutenant smile. Sub-Commander T'Pol caught the smile on his face. She did not look amused. "Lieutenant, why are you smiling? Does this situation amuse you?"

The smile fled from his face. His expression closed up. "No, Sub-Commander."

Trip's voice echoed in his mind. *What's up?*

*Your watch dog, T'Pol, just bit my head off*

Trip sounded amused. *My watch dog?*

*Yes. Since you were brought in she's been standing guard over you*

*Malcolm, T'Pol is not my watch dog. She's not my anything. She's a VULCAN*

*Hmm, I'm only telling you what I see*

*Then you need your eyes tested as well as your head*

*My head? There's nothing wrong with my head*

*Then what the hell am I doing in here?*

A pause. "Driving me mad?"

* * * * *

It was over an hour later. The Captain and Sub-Commander T'Pol had left to take up their duties on the bridge. Dr Phlox promised to keep them informed. Lt Reed was getting anxious. Dr Phlox gave him a thoughtful look, taking in his signs of stress as he quit pacing the floor to stare at the doorway.

"Lieutenant, I thought you would be pleased to be released from sickbay?"

A slight frown furrowed his brow. "I am it's just..." His voice trailed off.

*Another unfinished sentence* thought the doctor. "I can assure you lieutenant, I will take good care of the Commander."

Lt Reed said nothing, he turned to look at Commander Tucker. Could hear him as clear as crystal in his mind. It was oddly comforting and did not feel strange that they should have this sudden connection. It felt 'necessary'. No. That was not the right word. Imperative. That was it. Much more accurate.

"Lieutenant?"

The Armoury Officer turned his head and resisted the urge to sigh in exasperation. Why did the doctor continually prod him into talking? Did he not know how senseless and irritating it was? "Yes, doctor?"

"Are you sure you are alright? Perhaps a day in sickbay might be in order."

Was that what he wanted? No. But it was what they needed. He sat on his biobed and thought about it. Yes. He could not let circumstances part them now. He put his hand to his head and gave it a rub. Immediately the doctor was next to him checking him over again.

"Do you have a headache, lieutenant? Feel dizzy, disorientated?"

He decided to be vague. Yes. Vague would be much the best response. That way he would not exactly be lying about his state of health but caution would ensure the doctor kept him here a little longer. "I... um... I am fine, doctor....."

"You do not sound very sure."

"I uh, perhaps I'll just take a little nap?"

Dr Phlox frowned. He did not like the sound of that. "I'm not sure that is such a good idea."

"No?"

"According to my calculations you have slept for more than ten hours. The Commander has been asleep considerably longer. In fact, I wish I knew how to wake him."

"He needs more beauty sleep than I do."

The doctor did not appreciate the weak joke. "I am surprised you are taking this situation so lightly, lieutenant."

Lt Reed wanted him to stop talking. To leave him alone to think. To converse with Trip. He lay on the biobed and exaggerated a yawn. Dr Phlox frowned at him. Seconds later he drifted off to sleep. Let the doctor worry about the why and the wherefore he had more important things on his mind. *Trip?*

A sluggish thought echoed back to him. As if it was wading through mollasses. *Thought you'd left me*

*I have no intention of leaving you. How do you feel?*

*Like I'm drifting away*

*Hang on*

*Very funny, Malcolm. Hang on to what?*

*Me*

*What's happening to us?*

*I do not know. Did you hit your head on anything?*

*Why ask if I hit my head? Maybe it was you*

*I'm not the one who can't wake up*

*Then what are you doing here?*

A slight pause. *Trying to help a friend*

* * * * *

Captain Archer was concerned. Could not stop thinking about his friend. When Trip had started bleeding from the ear he had gone into full panic mode though nobody looking at him in the sickbay would have known it except perhaps Sub-Commander T'Pol. She had been looking at him with such a keen eye that he doubted much got passed her. He looked at her now. She stood straight and focused on her tasks. Did he detect a slight tension about her? No. Must be imagining it. She's a Vulcan. Why would she worry about two of his crew? Then he corrected himself. Ashamed to put such a prejudice on the Sub-Commander. She had more than proved herself to this ship and his crew. He should not take out his worry on others, even if they were not vocalised. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Sub-Commander?"

She looked up from her science station. "Yes, Captain?"

"Please do a detailed scan of the area. I want to know if there is something out here that could account for what happened to Commander Tucker and Lt Reed."

If she was surprised by his request she did not show it. "Yes, Captain."

 

Ensign Hoshi Sato exchanged a look with Travis Mayweather. Neither of them had a clue what was going on but it did not sound good. Hoshi looked at the Sub-Commander but the Vulcan had eyes only for her instruments. The Ensign frowned slightly and vowed to have a talk with Dr Phlox as soon as her shift ended. With the Captain not talking and everybody else acting as if nothing had happened she felt increasingly unsettled. Something was wrong. Something had happened to two of her crewmembers. If she were the Captain she would be jumping up and down demanding answers. She looked at him. Really looked at him and realised she was wrong. On the outside he looked calm. Collected. In control. But then she caught a glimpse of the panic in his eyes. The muscle jumping in his tight jaw. It calmed her but her feelings of concern just went up another notch.

* * * * *

The cloud was beautiful. Like a sunset that had been relocated to the depths of space in all its' radiant beauty. Commander Tucker was mesmerised. It was calling him. Knew his name. It would be rude to ignore such a polite invitation. On the edge of his senses he was aware of someone else calling his name. It was a drag on his energy to pay attention to it but it sounded familiar. Concerned even. *Who's that?*

Lt Reed was alarmed by how faint Trip sounded. Like he was somehow losing him. *Trip, it's me Malcolm*

*Malcolm. Can't talk now, gotta go*

*Go? Go where?*

*I don't know... It's so beautiful*

*What's beautiful? Describe it to me*

There was a long silence. Panic made Lt Reed reach out with his mind, searching for his friend but without a clue where he should look. *Trip? Don't go, don't leave me*

There was no response. Distressed, Lt Reed found himself rudely awakened. Dr Phlox shaking him urgently. Tears running down his face. His eyes stared up. "We're losing him." He whispered. His voice tight with emotion and wrung with agony.

"Losing who?"

Lt Reed could not answer. He turned his head and simply looked across at the other biobed. As he did so Commander Tucker's lifesigns flat-lined.

* * * * *

It was singing to him. Was he dead? Was this Heaven? If so his Uncle Walt should be here to greet him. Wasn't that the way it worked? He felt something like humour touch his thoughts but it was so alien. A scent brushing across his neural pathways. Mixed senses all jostled together as if they had been put through a blender. The cloud embraced him. Breathed for him. Touched him on all levels at once and sang his name. He felt like a bowstring, the flight of the arrow, the singing surge as he was loosed from the tight anchor into which he had been drawn. He would have gasped at the wonder of it but had no lungs. No air to breathe. No body to drag him down and imprison him in the harsh reality of mortal existence. Why in hell did he think that? What was this place and where was Malcolm?

* * * * *

Captain Archer was frantic. Sub-Commander T'Pol had seen the Captain in many states but this one dropped any pretence of being anything other than complete and utter panic. He was not focusing. Not trying to be logical. To reason through what was happening. He simply stared and watched in horror as Dr Phlox and his team tried to revive the Commander. 

"Captain?"

He did not hear her. She dared to touch his arm.

"Captain?"

Still no response. She shook him. Glassy eyes flickered to her face. "What?"

He was in shock. "Captain, you have to concentrate. Listen to the sound of my voice."

"Trip's dead..."

"No, the doctor is trying to revive him."

"Not dead?"

"Captain, we have to work out what happened."

"Why?"

"If we find out what happened we may be able to put this right."

For a long time he just stared at her. Not comprehending. Not wanting to comprehend. All he knew was that the best friend he had ever had was dying and he was doing nothing. Nothing but arguing with a Vulcan. Part of him wanted to be mad at her. Blame her. So easy to do but it was not the answer. He was too intelligent to fall into that diversionary trap. His friend. Dying. It was not going to happen. Not on his ship. Not on his watch. His jaw set, a glint of determination returned to his eyes. The Sub-Commander stared at him and hoped. She let out a slow breath as focus returned to his eyes. He blinked. She released her hold on him but continued to keep eye contact. "What do you suggest we do?"

The Sub-Commander hesitated. She glanced across briefly to where Lt Reed lay sedated. It was hard to block out the images of his distress. Such raw emotion from such a restrained and controlled man had done more to affect her than the Captain's histionics. There was only one thing she could think of. "I propose a mind meld."

The Captain blanched. "You cannot be serious?"

She nodded. "I am."

Captain Archer felt a surge of anger. "He's *dying* if not already dead Sub-Commander and you want to invade his mind?"

"Not invade," She said quietly. "Connect."

"Connect?"

"Captain, neither you or I know what happened to Commander Tucker or Lt Reed. The lieutenant either cannot or will not assist us besides which he has been sedated. That leaves us with the Commander."

"Sub-Commander I know what you are trying to say, and on some weird level I can even see the logic of what you propose, but there are no lifesigns. How do you propose to connect with him if..." He broke off, unable to complete the sentence.

"If he is dead?" She said quietly.

He nodded and tried to blink back the formation of tears.

"The mind dies slowly, Captain. As the body shuts down it is the last light to be extinguished." Her voice was very quiet, gentle almost. As if she too was having to feel her way. "I do not want the Commander to die either, Captain. If there is a chance, however slender, that this procedure may help him how can I not consider it?"

He looked at her for a moment then glanced at Dr Phlox and his team. The doctor was straightening, his team moved back from the biobed. All their movements were slow and mournful. A slight shake of the doctor's head and he had his answer. Head hung down in defeat she had to strain even her superior Vulcan ears to hear him. "Do what you can, T'Pol." He whispered.


	2. Timing

He was swayed by the exotic. Mind numbed with quiet joy but kind of unsettled as well. Colours touched and moved him. Sensed his shadow of abiding sorrow. *Why are you sad?*

*Ma friends are grievin'*

*I will not harm you*

*Too late for that*

*Why do you say that?*

*My body isn't alive any more. Where I come from that means I died*

There was a silence. He felt, sensed, became aware of a subtle mood change. The sunset was imbued with more orange and a colour like burnt cinamon but a million times more subtle. Hinted at almost. The nature of the cloud formation was changing too as if a light flicker of concern brushed its' periphery. He did not know he was the cause.

Lt Reed was insensate. Knew nothing of waking or sleeping sorrows. His mind was easy to touch, to bring into alignment. The entity knew the two humans were friends. Had tentatively explored that friendship and now reached out to manipulate a deeper joining of minds. Not to experiment. Not to play God with these fragile lifeforms. But to ensure they came to no harm while in her care.

* * * * *

Captain Archer looked as if he had lost all hope. Sub-Commander T'Pol nodded once at his whispered words and turned. Dr Phlox was checking his instruments and the monitors. After a few moments of frantic activity he became suddenly still. T'Pol's eyes narrowed slightly. "Doctor, what is the matter?"

That made the Captain look up. Slowly, a look of stunned joy stole over the Denobulan's face. "Commander Tucker has life signs again."

The Captain looked shocked. "I thought you said he was..." He could not bring himself to say the word.

Dr Phlox nodded. "I did. He was. But his lifesigns are back. He is breathing normally and his heartbeat is strong."

Captain Archer smiled, relief just pouring into him. "Whatever you did, doctor, thank you. I owe you, we all do."

The doctor shook his head, pleased but puzzled. "I didn't do anything, Captain."

Sub-Commander T'Pol stepped close to the biobed and looked down at the unconscious Commander. He looked so calm and peaceful. It was rare for her to see him so still. "Are you saying he came back on his own?"

The doctor made a face. "I'm not sure that he *went* anywhere, Sub-Commander, but yes - essentially he brought himself back."

Captain Archer found breathing so much easier now himself. "So how's he doing?"

"He appears to be healthy, Captain." The doctor paused. "They both do. I can see no reason why they will not wake up."

"Perhaps they inhaled something?"

The doctor looked sceptical. "We all share the same atmosphere, Captain."

He nodded but was too happy right now to care if he made little sense. His friend was not going to die and that was all that mattered. If it meant he would sleep for a week so be it. If anyone had earned a rest it was Trip and Malcolm. He would just rather it was in a more conventional manner. He went to put a hand on the Commander's shoulder before leaving but the doctor intercepted him. "I do not think it is wise to touch him, Captain." 

An alarmed look shot across the Captain's face. "Why not?"

"There is something else I have noticed about their condition."

He was frowning now. "Which is?"

Dr Phlox glanced from one biobed to the other then looked at the Captain. He appeared to take a mental breath before speaking. "Commander Tucker and Lt Reed appear to be synchronised."

A pause. "What?"

"Synchronised." Said Sub-Commander T'Pol in her flat monotone. Only a flicker in her eyes showing any sign of emotion. "I believe the doctor is saying that their lifesigns are matching. In co-incidence. Running parallel. Perhaps the Commander did not help himself."

"I know what synchronised means, Sub-Commander." He snapped. Realising what he had said and how he had said it he forced himself to take a deep breath and modify his tone. "I'm sorry, Sub-Commander. I didn't mean to bite your head off."

"No apology is necessary, Captain."

Captain Archer gave her a thoughtful look. "Perhaps you will explain what you meant when you said the Commander did not help himself, Sub-Commander?"

"I was merely saying, perhaps they helped each other."

* * * * *

Trip was feeling happier. Knowing that his friends were not sorrowing over him meant a lot. Not that he minded right now whether he were alive or dead, he just did not want them to suffer on his account. Somehow that felt important.

*What about your friend?*

*Ma friend?*

*The one you call Malcolm*

He smiled. Or at least he thought he did. *Malcolm. Is he here with me?*

*Yes*

*Then how come I can't see him, sense him, feel him?*

*You can if you call him*

*Call him?*

He had a mental image and knew exactly what to do. *Malcolm? Can ya hear me?*

*Trip? Trip is that you?*

He chuckled. *Yeah, it's me. Who were ya expectin'?"

He felt his friend grumble in his mind and little sparks of humour glistened along their mental connection. Immediately he felt his friend's dour mood brighten with curiosity. *What was that?*

*What was what?*

*That. You touched my mind*

*So? How d'ya think we've been conversin'? Morse code?*

*No need to be facetious, Commander*

*An' no need to bring a dictionary to paradise, Lieutenant* He paused. "Just relax and enjoy the view*

The moment the Commander mentioned the view Lt Reed became aware of the most beautiful sight he had seen since leaving Earth. It was every sunset he had every loved wrapped in one. A shining megallanic beauty of ethereal dimensions. He had mentally glimpsed it before when this strange sleeping sickness had befallen them, but this vibrant visualisation only came to him through Trip. How odd was that? Did that make it less real or more? Or was he finally going crazy? If so, he was sure the American was largely to blame.

*Hey, I heard that! I got feelin's you know, Malcolm*

*Hmmm, sorry. I was just trying to fathom out what we're doing here*

He felt Trip sigh. *We're dreamin', Malcolm. Isn't it obvious?*

*So you say*

A pause. *What do you think we're doin'?*

*I don't know*

*Well that's helpful* Came his friend's gentle sarcasm.

Just then Trip felt images surfacing from the past. He fell silent. Memories he had forgotten about surfaced slowly, turning in his mind like a 3D image being turned through a holoprojection. How the hell could you do that with a thought? He accepted it because it somehow seemed the norm here, wherever here was. Then he was lost in the memory. He was a child again. Barely three, or was it four? His brother Danny had fallen out of the tree house leaving him stranded on an upper branch. He was afraid. Concerned for his brother. Terrified that he would fall. Each thought, each feeling, was isolated and amplified. He cried out in anxious anxiety, but the tears were those of a child. The fear the unnamed horror of the unknown. Distressed he sobbed quietly, images bleeding slowly through his mind. Every emotion relived in colour. Every sensation forming mental callouses.

Lt Reed was getting frantic. Since Trip had given him sight he could *see* his friend's distress. Reached out to touch him, to calm and comfort him. He was not someone who liked to touch or be touched in the normal course of events but since coming to Enterprise he had been picking up more and more of the American's relaxed mannerisms. He had actually felt comforted on more than one occasion when his impulsive friend had put an arm around his shoulder or given him a playful punch in passing. It had taken on a subtle intimacy that defined his idea of friendship. Trip had encouraged him to open up more than the rest of the crew put together. He had no idea why that should be except perhaps his annoying persistence. Now it was his turn to try to comfort his friend. As he reached out to him he touched and tasted his thoughts, felt a shock go through him as he experienced his mental anguish and fear. Answering tears pricked eyes that slept. *Trip, wake up! You're dreaming of the past. Come on Trip, don't cry*

The boy could not help it. Emotions bled from every pore. Lt Reed sensed he would have to go deeper. He steeled himself for the intrusion. Hating to impose further contact on his friend but he was worried about him. Friendship it seemed always came at a price. 

Unnoticed the entity watched. Savoured. Drew out Trip's memory in more detail, dissecting the emotions connected to them the better to understand his feelings. Why was the human distressed when he had been unhurt? What was a *brother*? More memories were sifted, plundered. Trip stopped crying, hardly aware of how tightly Malcolm's thoughts folded round him like protective arms. He could see Danny giving him something. Looked down at the harmonica and felt a deep joy go through him. Love even. It was not so much the gift it was the fact that Danny knew what he secretly wanted and had gone out of his way to raise the money to buy it for him. And it wasn't even his birthday. He felt the prick of tears. So damn happy. So proud and humbled to be loved so much. Those feelings touched Lt Reed's mind too and made him feel even more protective towards the engineer. It was odd, as if the ties of brotherhood were now being extended to them. They were friends. Slowly. Inexplicably. They were becoming family.

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato was getting annoyed with the doctor. He watched as she paced the sickbay floor. "Why can't I see him?"

"Lt Reed is sleeping."

"And has been for almost two days!"

"I will notify you the moment he awakes."

She stopped and faced him, a little lost look creeping into her eyes. "What if he doesn't wake? What if Lt Reed and Commander Tucker never regain consciousness?"

The doctor had already thought of that but he had no intention of sharing those thoughts with the ensign. "If you wish you may sit with him for a while but I must ask you not to touch him and not to try to wake him."

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why?"

He sighed. "Because as humans would say, 'we don't want to add insult to injury'."

She looked alarmed. "Malcolm's injured?"

"No, no, he is in perfect health. I just want to keep it that way, Ensign."

Hoshi calmed down and nodded. Realised the doctor was every bit as worried as she was only his concern was medical. He was simply being cautious. "Thank you, I'd like that."

He nodded and pulled back the curtain. Ensign Sato paused, surprised to see that Dr Phlox had put the two sleeping patients next to each other. Somehow the sight comforted her as if whatever was happening they would not be alone. She shook her head at the fancy then took a seat next to Lt Reed's bed and looked at his calm face. He was so relaxed and looked, oddly enough, happy. She frowned. Why did that seem strange? She shook her head gently then proceded to quietly tell the lieutenant everything that had happened since he had fallen into this coma.

* * * * *

Captain Archer could not concentrate on his food. Hardly tasted a thing he put in his mouth. He was staring at the empty chair. The one usually occupied by his ebullient friend. Sub-Commander T'Pol was watching him. concerned that his earlier euphoria had given way to a darker mood. "Captain?"

HIs head jerked up, a faint guilty expression on his face. His mind had been wandering and the sharp eyed Vulcan had noticed. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I was thinking."

"About the Commander?"

He nodded. Sighed. Then laid down his fork, abandoning the pretence of eating. "I'm worried about both of them, Trip *and* Malcolm." He gave her an intense look, as if she somehow held all the answers. "What's happening to them, T'Pol? How could Trip die then come back to life like that? I don't understand."

He caught a glimpse of her own mental confusion before the mask was back in place. "I do not know, Captain. Perhaps the one to ask should be the doctor."

"Dr Phlox?" He sighed again, a more profound expression of his frustration. His frown deepened. "That's another thing that worries me. This is Phlox's area of expertise but I get the feeling he's as puzzled and out of his depth as we are."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow but the Captain was no longer looking at her. He was staring, seeing nothing, memories unfolding. Laughter shared. All his happiest times seemed to involve this one man. His friend. The one person left in the world who knew him better than he knew himself. He could not lose him. He just couldn't. He blinked and focused on T'Pol. "We'll find a wya to bring them back, T'Pol." He said quietly but firmly. Not sure which one of them he was trying most to convince.

She just stared at him. Later that day she stopped offf at sickbay as her duty shift ended. It had been a long and frustrating day. Emotionally, if not physically, draining. Dr Phlox looked up from a screen as she entered. He looked subdued but gave her a polite nod. "Sub-Commander." He murmured.

Sub-Commander T'Pol gave him a nod back. "How are Commander Tucker and Lt Reed?"

"Sleeping."

She raised an imperious brow, her look not amused in the slightest. Dr Phlox felt uncomfortable as if he had somehow caused a breach in a carefully laid protocol. "I'm sorry, that was not very helpful."

"No, it was not. I wanted to know if you had made any progress."

Inwardly he flinched. "No, I regret to say I have not. This is a most baffling case. Physically neither man is harmed but they are not responding either to drugs, physical sensation, sound, light, heat..." His voice trailed off in frustration. He looked at her for a moment. "Perhaps you could try?"

That startled her. "Me?"

"Yes. You."

"What makes you think I can succeed where you have not?"

"Perhaps I am approaching this situation from the wrong perspective, Sub-Commander." He paused. "Or, perhaps I am doing as Captain Archer would put it - 'cluching at straws'."

"And I am a *straw*?"

A smile almost made it to the Denobulan's face but he did not want to alienate the Sub-Commander. He wanted her help. "Sub-Commander, you seem to have formed a friendship with the Commander and I know that you both trust and respect the lieutenant. Perhaps if you sat with them for a while, spoke to them..."

"They are unconscious, doctor."

A look of exasperation crossed his face. The Sub-Commander relented.

"But I am willing to try."

She saw relief flood his face. He smiled gently and gave her a grateful nod. "Thank you, Sub-Commander."

T'Pol frowned and wached him pull back the curtain he had drawn around the two biobeds. she was surprised to see the two beds side by side. Humans really were a most tactile race. Proximity being the next best thing to touch. Curious. Dr Phlox nodded encouragingly and watched her take a seat in the chair next to Commander Tucker's bed then drew the curtain back around them. Sometimes the illusion of privacy was enough. T'Pol blocked out the sounds of the doctor moving about in the sickbay, her eyes going from the sleeping Commander to the Lieutenant and back again. As she watched them sleep she was surprised to see tears rolling quietly down the Commander's face. Moved by something she could not put into words she reached out and touched his face. Her fingers gently connecting with his tears, her eyes widening as his emotion flooded unexpectedly through her.

* * * * *

Malcolm Reed was gasping. *What the bloody hell was that?*

Commander Tucker's reaction was sluggish. *That wasn't you?*

*No* Snapped his friend. *Do I look like I have four hands?*

*I dunno* Murmured the Commander with a tinge of playfulness. It helped to ease the terrible ache in his heart. *I never thought ya'd be huggin' me ta death but ya are*

He began to pull away but Trip did not let him go. After a moment it seemed childish to be so afraid of simply sharing comfort. Then he felt it.   
Another touch but not his and definitely not the Commander's. Something alien and analytical touched his mind, made him recoil in shock. Yet it also seemed strangely familiar. *Oh my God...*

Trip gave him an anxious look. *Mal? What is it? C'mon, you're beginnin' ta scare me*

*Your Rottweiler...*

*My what?*

*T'Pol*

He was about to ask him what the hell he was talking about when he felt a brush against his face. So gentle, so soft. He froze, felt the sensitive fingers wiping the tears from his face. *T'Pol? Is that you?*

She was speaking aloud. Her voice oddly gentle. Words hushed. He realised that she was attempting to calm him, offer what limited comfort it was within her gift to give. He was amazed and moved that she would even try. He was Human. She was Vulcan. They would do terrible things to her if they found out. It saddened him that her own people could be so narrow minded and repressed that they would punish her for caring for another just because he was not Vulcan. Hell. They would be the same no matter *who* it was. The straight jacket they forced her to wear chaffed. He could see and touch the wounds it left with a clarity that brought fresh tears to his eyes. Malcolm became anxious at his distress.

*Don't upset yourself*

How could he explain it to him? In some ways his friend had more in common with T'Pol than the other Vulcans did. Now there was a joke in there somewhere but for the life of him he did not feel like laughing.

*What're ya doin' here T'Pol?*

She did not answer. Could not hear his thoughts. He looked at his friend. *She can't hear me, Mal*

Lt Reed nodded, his eyes fastened on Trip's face. Trying not to hurt him. *She's awake, we're not*

That gave him pause for thought. Something occurred to him. *Did I die?* His voice softened at his friend's silence. *I did, didn't I?*

*Technically your heart may have stopped beating for a fraction of a second...*

Trip knew evasion when he heard it. *It was more than that, wasn't it?*

His friend swallowed nosily and pulled back a little. Their hold on each other relaxed yet feeling so natural. Malcom's thoughts sounded pained. *If you must know they couldn't revive you. Dr Phlox and his team were giving you CPR and various electrical stimuli to try to restart your heart*

*But they succeeded and in the end that's what matters*

Lt Reed was eloquent in his silence. Trip was watching him carefully. He raised a wondering hand and touched the pale china of his expressive face.

*They didn't revive me?*

Much as he desperately wanted to do so, Malcolm could not lie to him. Trip was his friend. He owed him the truth. *No*

Commander Tucker looked confused. *Then how'd I...?*

*I don't know* Responded the lieutenant quickly. Worried by the look on his friend's face. He put his arms around him and hugged him gently, unconsciously starting to rock him. Not wanting him to get upset again. *Don't think about it, Trip. It's going to be alright. We'll stick together and we'll get through this*

He bit back tears. He was not going to cry. Not again. Closing his eyes, Trip laid his head on Malcolm's shoulder. Felt a hand brush through his hair and knew instintively that it was T'Pol. He thought about her and was surprised to find that she was talking to him. Her voice so quiet he had to pay close attention to simply hear her. Blocking out the comfort of Malcolm's presence he was able to home in on her. An indefinable part of him awed by the words of comfort that tumbled softly from her lips. His eyes fluttered open. As he concentrated on her he found he could dimly see her face hovering above him. Her liquid eyes were pools of emotion swamping him with feelings that struggled to surface. Emotions reaching out with single minded determination to touch his.


	3. Curiosity

Captain Archer was a bundle of nervous energy. Dr Phlox had given up trying to calm him down yet despite his sympathy for the Captain's feelings he did not allow him to disrupt sickbay. He had two patients who needed every assistance he could give them. Having a keyed up explosive Captain on the scene hardly improved things. It took badgering and a rather painful piece of straight talking to get the Captain to return to the bridge. "Call me the moment anything changes." Dr Phlox nodded. "And I *mean* the very moment."

"You have my word, Captain."

Satisfied but not reassured he reluctantly left, casting a last look in Sub-Commander T'Pol's direction. She made no move to join him. Part of him was annoyed that the doctor had not asked her to leave as well. But the part of his brain that was still capable of rational thought accepted that she was not the one wearing a whole in the floor of sickbay. When he got to the bridge Travis Mayweather fixed him with an anxious look. Ensign Hoshi Sato watching his face nervously. "How are they doing, Captain?"

He sighed and took his seat with a heavy heart. "I wish I knew, Travis."

Ensign Hoshi Sato frowned. She did not like the sound of that. "Does the doctor know what's causing their condition, sir?"

He shook his head. Suddenly bone weary. Heart aching. "No. Apparently both Trip and Malcolm are in perfect health." He bit his lip and just stared in front of him. "Apparently there is no logical reason for their condition." His words made him think of the Sub-Commander. Logical. What the hell was logical about any of this? He looked at Ensign Sato. "Ensign, I want you to check the sensor logs from the time this started then backtrack slowly. We might have missed something."

"What are we looking for, Captain?" Asked Travis.

The Captain's head turned as the door hissed open behind him. His expression blank as Lt Hess gave him a nod then took Trip's station. Lt Reed's second, Ensign Cross was already at tactical. Captain Archer swallowed before answering Travis. No offence to either Hess or Cross but he hoped he would not be having their company on the bridge for much longer. He wanted his friends back. 

* * * * *

It was odd but as he gazed up through watery eyes the image of T'Pol grew steadily clearer. He was vaguely aware of Lt Reed trying to comfort him but could no longer hear his voice. In fact he was feeling increasingly numb until he was unable to feel the Englishman's presence at all. There was only T'Pol. His eyes pleaded with her not to leave him. As if hearing his thoughts out loud she spoke in reassurance, "I will not leave you, Commander."

Commander. *Why so formal, T'Pol? I gotta die before ya'll call me Trip?*

Then he realised the doctor was hovering close by. Of course. His thoughts paused. The doctor. That meant he was in sickbay. His eyes widened slightly at the realisation, the lights overhead suddenly coming into focus and blinding him. He winced and felt the hand on his cheek become solid.

"Commander? Can you hear me? Are you in pain?"

Her words immediately drew Dr Phlox over to the biobed. Lt Reed had not stirred. The doctor began to check Commander Tucker and was pleased to see that he was waking up. As Trip's eyes fluttered open the doctor beamed at him. "Commander, it is good to see you finally awake."

Trip squinted hard. "Hey doc, can you dip the lights? You're kinda blindin' me here."

"Yes, yes, of course." He responded happily. Immediately the lighting was dimmed.

"Thanks." That was when Trip got his first good look at the Sub-Commander. As his eyes focused on her face he felt as if the very expansion of the universe had stopped to accommodate this moment. A heartbeat frozen in time. "T'Pol." He breathed her name slowly. A long subdued exhalation of breath that seemed to have so many nuances wrapped up in it that the Sub-Commander had no way to divine a single meaning.

He watched her left eyebrow elevate. Her expression quizzical. "Yes, Commander?"

He felt so dry. His throat was parched. Words scratching him as he spoke. "Can't ya call me Trip?"

He felt the sigh more than heard it. Dr Phlox realised the Commander was dry and went to get him some water. Trip kept his eyes on T'Pol. She considered his request then after a couple of minutes gave a slow nod. "Very well - Trip."

Despite everything he beamed at her. "There. Wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It is a foolish name." She responded before she could stop herself. Apalled at her hapless comment. Speaking without thinking was not a Vulcan trait. She mourned her momentary lack of control.

He saw the abashed look flicker in her eyes. Knew she would have taken it back in an instant if she could have. "That's alright, T'Pol." He drawled gently. "It *is* a stupid name but it's my name." His smile became a slow teasing grin. "But then T'Pol isn't exactly the Mary Jane of Starfleet."

Dr Phlox was about to offer him the water then decided to pass the tumbler to the Sub-Commander. It would do her interpersonal skills no harm at all to assist the patient. She took the glass and looked at the Commander with a frown. Whether because she had been handed the menial task or whether in response to his comment about her own name, neither man could tell. "You will need to sit up to drink. Do you require any assistance?"

He sighed slightly and closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly weary. When he opened them again he startled a look of concern on her face. He felt sorry for being the cause but was also warmed by the fact that she did care about him. Even if only as a member of the crew. Every little inroad into her Vulcan detatchment was hoarded like a single grain of gold dust. "I'm okay, T'Pol." He said softly. "Just tired."

Her frown deepened. He sounded exhausted. His pallor far too pale for her liking. Then Dr Phlox was there, taking the water from the Sub-Commander and inserting a spoon into the tumbler. He carefully lathed a spoonful of the cool liquid to the Commander's lips. Enough to wet his lips not slake his thirst. Trip was too tired to be puzzled. Too weary to draw the precious fluid into his mouth. His eyelids so heavy now he could no longer keep them open. Sub-Commander T'Pol felt a moment of unreasoning panic. Afraid that if he closed his eyes now he would never open them again.

* * * * *

It was a bright sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. That was odd. Malcolm Reed looked up. No. Not even the fair weather cumulus clouds. No cirrostratus. Just clear blue sky reaching on forever. His father's voice brought him back down to earth. "Malcolm! You have not been listening to a word I have said."

The bark of authority straightened his shoulders. He turned his head and looked suitably contrite. "Sorry, sir."

His mother tried a tenative smile on for size but she seemed as baffled by her son's behaviour as his father was in denial of it. "Now what is this nonsense about wanting to join Starfleet?"

"It is not nonsense. A programme is in operation to streamline then recruit the brightest and the best to crew the first Earth space ship. The Academy will..."

His father cut him off abruptly. "Reeds are Navy. Always have been always will be."

"But I don't want to join the Navy." Malcolm said quietly.

His mother looked worried. As if there was something actually wrong with him. His father frowned with disapproval. The sky overhead began to darken. Out of the corner of his eye he could see stratus then stratocumulus clouds forming. As if the mood in the Reed household was having a directly proportionate effect on the weather. Which of course was utterly absurd.

"You will forget this Starfleet nonsense and that's an order. I will speak to the Admiralty..."

"Father."

The sudden stiffness in his son's voice stilled Mr Reed for a fraction of a second. "This is not a discussion, Malcolm. I will not allow you to throw your career away on a whim." He snorted. "Space travel! What next? It's time you took your head out of the clouds and lived in the Real World."

He bit back his anger. His sorrow. The depression of always having to duck beneath the weight of his father's domineering presence. He caught a glimpse of his sister Madeline just inside the conservatory. Her look giving him strength. Her lips mouthing the words she would never speak aloud in the presence of their father. Egging him on to do it. To follow his dream. Escape the confining strictures of a house that was not a home. A family that was as dysfunctional emotionally as any broken home. The appearance of stability did not make it so. Idly he wondered if he had been adopted. It took effort to keep the ghost of a smile from forming on his lips. One hint at humour and his father would take his belt to him. Grown man or not.

"I am joining Starfleet, father." He continued in a quiet firm voice. His mother's eyes widened. Surprised at his daring. He could see his father's face reddening with rage. "My application has already been accepted."

"How dare you defy me!"

"I regret that we do not see eye to eye on this subject, sir." He stated in a calm clipped voice. Carefully making sure he did not sound surly or belligerent.

"While you live under this roof you will obey the rules of the house."

"I won't be living under this roof, sir. Starfleet Academy does not take day students."

He thought his father would burst a blood vessel. The hush was so absolute that he could not even hear any birds singing or the buzz of insects on the wing. He waited for the inevitable tirade. It did not come. Instead he was subjected to something far more painful. His father's scorn and disappointment pierced him to the heart though manfully he tried not to show how much it hurt. His mother turned away. Too weak to stand up to his father. Too timid to support her son. His father's voice was quiet, strained and cold.

"You have planned this for some time."

It was a statement not a question. A judgement carved in stone.

"No, sir, I have *wanted* this for some time. I have tried to discuss it with you but you never wanted to hear what I wanted."

"So you just decided to defy me anyway is that it Malcolm?" Came the quiet accusation.

He felt tears prick his eyes. His cheeks flushed red. He so wanted his father to be proud of him. His mother to love him. The only one who really understood was Maddy but she did not count. She was a girl. "I did not want it to come to this, sir. I hoped you would see how determined I was and would support me."

His father stood heavily, brows drawn, back straight. "When do you leave?"

"In the morning, sir."

Mr Reed gave a solemn nod. Glanced out through the patio door at the dark clouds forming. "Storm's coming."

Malcolm did not speak. In his eyes it was already here. The sadness that welled up in his heart was only bearable because of the huge feeling of relief that it would soon be over. Freedom beckoned. His future laid out before him. Inwardly he vowed that he would work as hard as possible to make the grade. He did not want to be good he wanted to be the best. To excell to such a high standard that he would prove his father wrong and carve a future for himself out among the stars. His eyes glittered as the first heavy drops of rain fell. He watched the precipitation with a quiet sense of calm. Inordinately pleased that he had not lost his temper, that he had dug his heels in and made his case without rancour. It would have been nice to have his parents' support but in the end that did not matter. Maddy supported him and that was enough. No one had a sister more wonderful than he did. Four years his senior she gave him what his parents could not. Love unstinting. Her affection and humour had fashioned him as much as his father's unbending discipline and his mother's patience. Without turning his head he knew they had gone back inside the house leaving him standing at the patio door of the conservatory. He could not see Maddy but he could feel her presence.

Gradually he became aware of being comforted though he had not consciously realised he was crying.

*Malcolm, c'mon it's gonna be okay.*

That voice. Who was that? He forced his eyes open and stared into the dazzling blue of his friend, Commander Tucker. That was intensely weird. He felt disorientated. What on earth was going on? The Southerner looked paler than normal, his face filled with concern, his eyes gentle and almost pleading with him.

*Are ya okay, Mal?*

Not knowing what to say he nodded then remembered something. *Are we still...?* 

Trip sighed. *Yeah, we're asleep*

*Oh bugger, I was afraid of that*

Trip wiped the tears from Malcolm's face then stepped away from him, ostensibly looking around to see where exactly they were. But Malcolm knew he was just giving him time to get himself together. A private moment in a place where privacy was all but taken from them. He took a couple of deep breaths and considered something. *This isn't so bad, Trip*

The Southerner was looking at the incredible sunset. He did not turn his head, the awe he always felt at such a sight was still in evidence. Malcolm could see how his eyes shone with the wonder of it. If Peter Pan had ever been a real boy he would have been Trip. Surprised at his own fanciful thought he chuckled. Trip turned to look at him. *What's so funny?*

Malcolm walked over to join him. Not really sure what he was walking on. He imagined it was solid yet could see no form. Were they walking on clouds or was the sensation all in his head? Now 'that' was scary. *I was thinking of you and Peter Pan if you must know*

Trip tilted his head. *Ya know we are gonna have to get ya seen by a shrink when we get back*

*IF we get back*

That silenced them both for a couple of minutes. Trip brought him back on track. *What about Peter Pan?*

Malcolm shrugged suddenly embarrassed. It was a juvenile thought and he certainly did not want to say anything to offend his friend. Trip heard his thought.

*Ya won't offend me, Mal*

*Well, it is kind of stupid now that I think of it*

*What was it?*

*I was just thinking if Peter Pan were real he would be you or rather, you'd be him*

That amused him. *Why?*

Now Malcolm smiled. *Your sense of fun, that child like quality you have...*

*Hey!*

His smile grew wider. *It's endearing, honest* He soothed.

Trip stared at him. Hardly able to believe his ears.

*And when you get that awe struck look on your face, well - I just keep thinking of Peter Pan. The boy who never grew up*

*Thanks* Growled his friend in mock annoyance.

Malcom laughed. *I always liked Peter Pan you know*

Trip smiled back then became serious. *Ya know I like your sister*

*You don't know my sister*

*No,* Trip admitted. *But seein' her through your eyes I feel like I do*

That made him stop and think. *You saw Maddy through my eyes?*

He nodded. His voice becoming quieter, oddly gentle. *Yeah, saw ya parents too*

*Oh* There was no answer to that. Pain touched him deep, courted the shadows of his eyes where not even the beautiful megallanic cloud could cast its' vibrant colours.

*I think ya made the right decision, Mal. Hell, I know ya did. You're the best tactical officer I've ever seen and I'm proud to serve with ya*

*I'll remind you of that the next time you criticise one of my decisions*

Trip laughed then gave him a long look. *Are all Brits like that?*

*Like what?*

*Ya know, your folks*

*Christ I hope not! I wouldn't wish them on anyone*

*Sorry*

*It's okay, Trip. People think we're all stuck up and stiff upper lip but that's mostly an illusion. We're as warm and mad and impassioned as any other race on the planet. Except, that is, for my father* He gave a helpless little shrug that gave more of his feelings away than he could have known. *I did strike lucky though with Maddy* He grinned at Trip. True pleasure breaking through the pain barrier. Voice tinged with affection. Looking at him Trip smiled back and made a silent vow. If they ever got back to Earth he was going to take Malcolm to meet his family. Not a soul on the planet could withstand the combined good will and mayhem of the Tucker clan. If that did not fix a permanent smile on his friend's face nothing short of surgery would do it for him.

* * * * *

Captain Archer stared at his plate. The food untouched. His heart heavy. Sub-Commander T'Pol had barely spoken two words to him and those he had to drag out of her. He looked up. "I wish I knew what was going on. I feel so damn helpless."

She said nothing, just looked at him. There were times when he was seriously tempted to shake her. If only to get a response. Belatedly he realised it was because he wanted a *human* response. How screwed up was that? She was a Vulcan and the sooner he accepted that the better.

"Sub-Commander, I can't help feeling we must be missing something." Yeah, like two of my crew.

"Dr Phlox is adamant that both Lt Reed and Commander Tucker are unharmed."

He sighed with exasperation and flung down his napkin. "I don't call being unable to wake up unharmed."

She raised an eyebrow. "Both the Lieutenant and the Commander have regained consciousness, albeit temporarily."

"I don't consider opening your eyes then closing them again to be a good definition of awake, Sub-Commander." Seeing her mouth open in protest he held up a hand and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I should not be taking this out on you it's just that I feel so helpless. I want to do something. Find a way to bring them back. Break this spell."

"Spell?"

"Uh, it's an expression. In our fairy tales there are various characters who have seemingly magical abilities. Witches, wizards, you name it. In the stories they can cast spells on people. It's like Trip and Malcolm are under   
some kind of spell. One that won't let them wake up."

T'Pol considered his words carefully. Her look thoughtful. "And in the stories, Captain, how is the 'spell' broken?"

"It varies. For Sleeping Beauty it worked with a kiss."

She stared at him then lowered her eyes to look at her plate. Hardly a morsal had been touched. The Captain fell quiet, lost in his own thoughts. Neither moved when the steward appeared and cleared away their plates. It had been a long and exasperating day. A day of deepening depression as the crew absorbed the fact that they were completely out of their depth. The Captain hoped and prayed that whatever had overtaken his two officers it would not affect any more of his crew.

* * * * *

Trip could feel her presence. He nudged Malcolm. Both were sitting on what seemed to be a spongy surface. It reminded Trip of grass but it had no smell. The moment he thought of that he could smell fresh mown grass. A grin split his face. His friend looked at him as if he was mad. 

*What's the matter with you?*

*She's back Mal*

His friend twisted around but could not see anyone. *Who?*

*The one who created this*

A voice imbued itself on their consciousness. Musical, light and dusted with humour. *I did not create this*

*Oh no? Then who did?*

Her answer came as a surprise. *You did*

*Me? Me and Malcom?*

*No. You*

Trip and Malcolm exchanged a look. Malcolm was philosophical about the dubious honour. *It makes sense, Trip. Remember when I was looking for you but couldn't see you? You were telling me to look at the view and as soon as you said that I could see. Not just anything but see what you were seeing*

*What's that supposed to mean?*

*This is your sunset, Trip*

*And yours, don't forget you like them too*

*Yes, but I didn't think of them until I had seen yours*

A moment passed in silence. *So you're sayin' this is my fault?*

Malcolm put a hand on his friend's shoulder. *No. You didn't do this to us*

*He is right* Said the voice. Odd how it tinkled slightly like silver bells, thought Trip.

*Why d'ya pick on us?*

*Curiosity*

Her reply surprised them both.

*We were curious about your particulate accretion."

*Our what?*

Trip felt humour slide through his mind. Glad to have Malcolm sitting right next to him shoulder to shoulder. Keeping him sane. It was the only thing that gave him some sense of reality.

*Your particulate accretion. Organic mass. This matter has coalesced into distinct individual groupings. Each vibrant cluster forming a new being. Apart yet curiously linked*

Malcolm Reed looked excited. *Linked how?*

*Through sentience*

Malcolm turned to Trip. *She means...*

*I know what she means, Mal. Intelligent lifeforms*

*That is correct*

*Yeah well if we're just gritty bits of creation glued together with human consciousness what are you?*

*We are*

*Yeah, we got that bit. You are what?*

*Non organic*

Trip was not sure what to make of that. Malcolm shifted, trying to decipher what she meant from what she was not saying as much as from what little she was. *Can you be more specific?*

*I am what you would call a thought form*

*No physical body, huh?*

*That is correct, Trip*

*You've met us now, been able to satisfy your curiosity, so how about lettin' us go back?*

*You do not understand*

Trip saw an anxious look come over his friend's face. Watched Malcolm lean forward even though they could not see the entity to whom they spoke. *Explain it to us. Please*

*You cannot go back. At least. Not permanently*

*Why not?*

Both Malcolm and Trip felt a cool brush stir against their minds. Like a key turning in a lock they realised that though there were no walls it was still a prison. *Because we have not finished with you yet*


	4. Friends

Sub-Commander T'Pol could not rest. Sleep would not come. Meditation was more concept that reality. She sighed and got up. Quietly she dressed then did something she could not even explain to herself. She went to Commander Tucker's quarters. Used the security over ride code to gain access. As the door hissed shut behind her she stepped into the middle of his quarters and closed her eyes on tears. His lingering scent brought a bitter-sweet comfort to her. She had come so close only to lose him. Why did she feel this need to be with him? He was Human. She was Vulcan. There could be no future between them but there could be, and was, friendship. Was that what she felt now? In the silence of her own mind she could admit the first stirrings of truth. She opened her eyes and walked slowly around his quarters, familiarising herself with the contents. Smiling sadly at the odd collection of things he chose to keep close to him. As she took it all in she felt her understanding of him deepen. Along with the very real need to bring him back. But how?

* * * * *

*Trip?*

The Commander tore his gaze away from the sunset and looked at his companion. "Mmm?"

Lt Reed looked thoughtful. *We're asleep, right?*

*That's right*

*And all the time we're sleeping we're... here. In a kind of dreamscape*

*What's your point, Malcolm?*

*I'm just trying to figure this out* He paused. *I don't understand what they want with us. Or rather, what they want with you*

*What's that supposed to mean? We're both trapped Mal in case ya hadn't noticed*

He nodded. *I noticed but that's not what I meant. I keep thinking about what she said. How you were the one who had created this place*

*She's just tryin' to confuse you*

*Well she's succeeded but what if she's right? What if this is from your mind?*

Trip sighed. *We could suppose all kinds of things Mal but it wouldn't solve anythin'.*

*How do you know that?*

*It's just a feelin'.*

They sat in silence, both wrapped up in their individual thoughts. After what could have been seconds, minutes or even hours Lt Reed spoke again. *I don't have any regrets you know*

*About what?*

He looked at the Southerner. *This. Everything*

Trip tilted his head slightly. *Everythin's an awfully big area. Care to narrow that down a little?*

*Why?*

*I dunno, just make it more managable I guess*

The lieutenant paused, suddenly feeling a little shy. *I'm glad we're friends, Trip*

A smile blossomed on the Commander's face. The man did have an incredible smile. A thousand watts and counting. *I'm glad too but don't be so damn fatalistic. We're not dead*

*Not yet*

Trip frowned. *What's that supposed to mean?*

*It means what are we supposed to do in here? What if whatever has us trapped decides not to let us go? How long can we be trapped in your mind before we die?*

His words stunned Commander Tucker. It was something that had not occurred to him. As he began to become anxious they became aware that the entity was with them again. Her thoughts caressed their minds, seeking to calm them. *I promised I would not let you come to harm*

*Then why not let us go?* Demanded the lieutenant.

It was all very well getting all touchy-feely but he had had enough of this. He wanted to go back to the Enterprise. She answered him gently, her thoughts the faintest stirring of a warm wind against his. *Is that what you really want? More than anything, Malcolm?*

*Of course it is*

The moment the thought was expressed darkness engulfed him. For a split second he melted in terror, his thoughts and feelings truncated by the sudden sense of relocation. How bizarre was that? Hell was hell whatever you chose to call it. Whether it was flames and a devil with a trident and a tail or the most beautiful sunset you had ever seen. Panic surged through him. A weight on his chest. Air pumped harsh and unrelenting in lungs that struggled to grasp every bit of atmosphere it could grab into his lungs. Dr Phlox was immediately alerted by the bleeping on his console. Quickly he hurried over to Lt Reed's biobed awaking a dozing Hoshi Sato. The Ensign looked up with bleary eyes. Not comprehending what was happening. Dr Phlox checked the lieutenant's vital signs, a slow relieved smile gracing his lips as the unconscious man began to stir. He beamed at Hoshi.

"I do believe Ensign that Lt Reed is waking up."

Her eyes filled with sudden tears. She clasped the hand nearest to her and gave a gentle squeeze. As they watched, Lt Reed blinked, coughed softly and opened his eyes. "Bloody hell, it worked. I'm back!"

Hoshi laughed and hugged him. Dr Phlox activated the com. "Dr Phlox to Captain Archer."

The com crackled slightly. "Yes, doctor. Is there a problem?"

"No problem Captain. I just thought you would want to know. Lt Reed has just regained consciousness."

The doctor could hear the relief and excitement in the Captain's voice. "On my way, Archer out!"

Hoshi was babbling, she knew she was but she could not help it. She was so glad to see him. She had been so afraid he would never wake up. He smiled to reassure her then turned his head, eyes settling on the still form of his friend. All joy shuddered to a halt. "What about Trip?" He asked quietly.

Dr Phlox checked the monitor then double checked his vital signs. The smile froze on his face. Sadness echoing in his eyes though he tried to sound upbeat. "I'm afraid there is no change, lieutenant."

Lt Reed felt a wash of guilt and anguish sweep through him. He closed his eyes on fast building tears, berating himself. "Oh God, what have I done?"

* * * * *

The sudden feeling of isolation was almost too much for him. He had been able to stand it before because he had Malcolm. Now he was alone. What joy could there be in paradise with no one to share it with? Tears glistened in his eyes. His heartbeat faltered. She became anxious for him. *He wanted to go back, Trip*

*What makes ya think I don't?*

Silence. He stared at the sunset, tried to lose himself in its' beauty but it just made his heart ache more. He closed his eyes, silent tears rolling down his cheek. He felt her apology kiss his cheek but it could not dry his tears. Then he was alone again. Wrapping his hands around his knees he put his head down and wept.

* * * * *

Captain Archer all but flew into sickbay. His stride quick and strong, his eyes anxious but filled with hope. Lt Reed was sitting up on his biobed, Dr Phlox fussing around him. Hoshi holding his hand for support. He could not meet the Captain's eyes. He had been with Trip but he had blown it. His own selfishness had propelled him back to the Enterprise and left his friend trapped. He had no idea how he knew that, he just did. It was why he had stayed in sickbay instead of going back to his room. Why he had wanted to reach out to his friend, to form a link however tenuous to the way back home. If he had to break his body into breadcrumbs to do it he would have done it but the wicked witch of the west had stolen the gingerbread house and Hansel and Gretal would never see the goose that laid the golden egg again. If he only had a cow to sell he could go back. He shook the foolish jumble of thoughts out of his head. He was worse than he thought. Insanity really had got him good this time.

"Lieutenant - Malcolm - how do you feel?"

He lifted red rimmed eyes and looked at the Captain. Captain Archer was shaken to see how traumatised he looked. Guilt swum in those glittering orbs confusing him. What the hell did Malcolm have to feel guilty about? Then he realised it was because he had come back and Trip had not. He swallowed hard. Whatever had happened. Whatever was going on. He was sure of one thing. It was not Malcolm's fault.

"Trip's still in there, sir."

He knew he would have to go carefully. The man looked as close to breaking as he had ever seen him. That thought alone scared him. "In where, Malcolm?"

Lt Reed looked across at the other biobed. The one with the unmoving figure resting on it. Laid out like a cadaver awaiting the mortician's knife. It brought tears again to his eyes. Willpower alone stopped the tears from falling. What right did he have to cry? This was all his fault. *Oh God Trip, I'm so sorry*

"Malcolm?" Prodded the Captain gently when he still had not spoken.

"I'm sorry, Captain. You were saying?"

Captain Archer drew up a chair and sat next to Hoshi. She went to get up, to give him her seat, but the Captain shook his head. Right now Lt Reed needed all the reassurance he could get. "I was asking you where Trip is. I need you to tell me whatever you can about what happened, where you've been."

He swallowed slowly then nodded. In a small voice he began to tell him, his eyes straying every now and then to his friend.

* * * * *

She was so weary. How could a few days feel like eternity? She sighed and sat on his bed for no other reason than her legs no longer wanted to hold her upright. She sat there deep in thought. Remembering the first time she had ever met the affable and irrepressible Chief Engineer. His smiling teasing face fixed on her and daring her to shake his hand. She could see that he knew Vulcans hated to be touched. The dare in his eyes tinged with a skimming of hostility. When had that changed? When had her haughty superiority begun to see the Humans as worthy beings in their own right? She had learnt to respect and trust Captain Archer. The emotional Humans had caused her so many emotional epiphanies, the Commander being the reason for most of them. Why? Why him? Why had it been so important to him to provoke emotional responses from her? And then, just when she decided he was not worth the effort, he would prove to be as insightful as any Vulcan. His passions were unruly but his loyalty was unequivocal. There were many things she admired about him even as she cursed him. And now. What did she feel? Not relief that the annoying human was silent but sorrow. She missed him. Worried about him. Wished she had told him how she felt. How she *wanted* to feel. Only she had not dared. He was Human. She was Vulcan. He might just as well have been born with a *Do Not Touch* sign pinned to his body.

T'Pol sighed. Her heart felt heavy. Worn out mentally from trying to think a way out of the problem only she had too little information. Perhaps it was a virus of some kind? Yet the Commander had been nowhere the rest of them had not gone. And what would affect the Commander and Lt Reed with equal intensity? Why those two out of a ship of 83 souls? She frowned and applied more thought. Obviously she was missing something. Besides her favourite most annoying Chief Engineer. A yawn surprised her. It was getting very late. She should return to her quarters but she could not bear to. Instead she lay back and closed her eyes. She would rest for just a moment then make her way back to her quarters. Her empty and very lonely quarters. It was a shock when sleep claimed her but not as big a shock as waking. At least. It felt like waking.

* * * * *

The morning shift found many souls bleary eyed from lack of sleep. Captain Archer stopped by sickbay before going to breakfast. Lt Reed had been checked out and released but hovered anxiously by Commander Tucker's biobed getting in the doctor's way. Dr Phlox let out a sigh of exasperation and looked at the Armoury Officer. "Lieutenant, you do Commander Tucker no good by preventing me from doing my job. I will ask you for the last time to leave sickbay or I will be forced to sedate you."

Captain Archer interrupted before Malcom could plead with him to let him stay. "I don't think that'll be necessary, doctor."

Dr Phlox looked relieved to see him. Judging by the look of Lt Reed he had got no sleep last night whatsoever. No doubt worrying about his friend and blaming himself. He walked over to Trip's bed and looked down at him. The face looked thinner, paler even than yesterday. He knew the doctor was doing all he could but it was not enough. He put a hand on Trip's shoulder, his eyes misting slightly. "Come on Trip, wake up. Chef's got a stack of pancakes with your name on them."

No response. The Captain sighed. His heart aching. He looked at the doctor. "What's the prognosis doctor?"

Dr Phlox looked at a loss. "I don't know what to tell you, Captain. I have no idea why he is in this state or why he does not simply wake up."

"I told you." Mumbled Lt Reed, his eyes fixed doggedly on Trip's face.

"Then tell us again, Malcolm." Urged the Captain.

"Told you last night," He said in a dull voice. "You didn't listen to me then why listen to me now?"

"Because you have been through this with Trip, we haven't. We need to know what we're up against Malcolm, even if we can't understand it."

Malcolm looked at the Captain, sighed again, then looked down at his hands. "It sounds fantastic I know." He said wearily, slowly taking a seat. His eyes flicked back up to review the expression on his Captain's face. He was listening intently. The Lieutenant's voice picked up slightly as if encouraged. "She's not an organic lifeform you see. Said the nearest thing we could equate her to was a thought form."

"Her?"

He nodded. "Yes. She also said the place where we were Trip had created." He paused and looked at his friend, a hand reaching out to rest protectively over one of Trip's cold ones. The cool flesh was a shock to his system surprising a solitary tear. Captain Archer watched in morbid fascination as it trailed down the Tactical Armoury Officer's cheek. For such a self contained man these signs of grief moved him deeply. Touched his own sorrow and gave him an odd kind of comfort. How moribund was that? It reminded him of a saying: *misery likes company*. It made him feel pathetic but also underlined the humanity they shared so precariously in this sometimes violent universe. Even when space was not being hostile it was not always being friendly either. The proof lay insensate on the biobed next to them.

* * * * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol was convinced she was dreaming. To test her theory she reached out with her thoughts to the figure sitting staring at what looked to her like a multicoloured cloud of light. At first nothing happened. T'Pol tried again, this time calling him with her mind. *Trip, can you hear me?*

His head jerked up. *T'Pol, is that you?*

She stepped forward, her movements cautious. A building excitement trembling through her. His head turned slowly then everything in the universe froze. Time had no meaning. Life and Death were formless. They stared at each other. Slowly Trip got to his feet, his mouth opening and closing, his thoughts a tangle of emotions. As she drew near to him she could see he had been crying. Her heart went out to him, her hands reached for him.

*T'Pol, I can't believe you came*

*How could I leave you?*

He fought back tears of joy. *I don't understand how you got here*

*Does it matter?*

Her gentle thoughts soothed him, her arms engraced him. The relief was almost as profound as his joy. A pleasure so bright it was almost painful. Exquisite. He held her so lightly. Frightened he would crush her with the overpowering need flowing through him. He had been lonely for so long. His thoughts surprised her. *I never thought of you being lonely, Trip*

He loved hearing her use his nickname. It gave a warm flush to his cheeks and filled his heart with affection. He looked at her for a long time before responding. Commiting every detail to his memory, etching the feel of her, the scent of her, the very vibrancy she represented in his soul to his heart. If this was a fleeting joy he intended to never forget it. *Just because you're surrounded by people doesn't mean ya can't be lonely, T'Pol* He said gently.

A nod was her response. How succinctly he put it. The words could have been describing her not him. She allowed a hint of humour to soften her features. The deep sparkle in her eyes alerting him. *You have an illogical way of being alone*

His smile warmed her heart. Sent it racing at a speed she was sure he could feel through their clothing. *I said lonely not alone*

*I know what you said*

His smile became a grin. Knowing instinctively that she was teasing him about his alien encounters. *Ya know none of that was my fault, T'Pol*

An arched eyebrow was her only response. He laughed brightly and hugged her to him. So pleased to see her. So happy to no longer be alone. He sighed softly with deep content. Savouring her scent as he hugged her gently to him. Never wanting to let her go. She allowed it. In fact craved it. Neither of them knew how long they stood in each others' embrace. Gradually their thoughts mingled in happy accord. Trip telling her everything that had happened since him and Malcolm had fallen into this sleeping trap. T'Pol recounting the efforts of Captain Archer and Dr Phlox to find a solution and bring them both back. He traced a finger gently down her face, watching how the multicoloured light reflected off her skin. Feelings stirring in him that excited and cautioned him. She was Vulcan. He was Human. He did not want to ruin the friendship they had by seeking more than she was able to give.

T'Pol tilted her face up at him. An expression in her eyes that made him go weak at the knees. Surely not? He raised his eyebrows. *I somehow don't think your mother and father would approve of me*

She smiled. It was faint but it was there. For some reason it made him deliriously happy. *This does not concern them, Trip*

That surprised him. *Wouldn't you be shunned if you took up with a Human? Ya know, thrown off the family farm, disinherited, that kind of thing?*

*I am already disowned*

That shook him. Pain pinched the corners of his eyes and made his heart contract. *Ya are? How come?*

She rested one small hand over his heart, her eyes swallowing his in their liquid depths. *When I broke off my wedding plans with Koss I shamed my family. A dutiful daughter does not bring disgrace on her house*

Anger flowed through him. A deep rich vein that left her heady with delight. He was angry for 'her'. Defensive. Protective. Fiercely loyal. *I'd say they should be grateful. Marrying a man ya hardly know just because it was arranged fifty years ago is barbaric. Any parent with any love for their children couldn't let them be married off like that. It isn't right and it isn't natural, T'Pol* He paused and tried to calm down. *We got rid of slavery centuries ago. How'd an enlightened species like yours hang on to somethin' so antiquated and wrong?*

His argument amused her. *It is the Vulcan way*

*Then it's time their ways changed*

She looked at him. Lost in the inate goodness she saw in his eyes. What had he once called them? Ah yes. Windows of the Soul. She liked that term. Liked him. Like shifting sands something was altering inside her. Something precious being born. Given flight and the means to go from her heart to his. A seductive warmth tingled through her. She raised a hand to cup the side of his face in her palm. His eyes widened but he said nothing. Such complete trust shone back at her. Gently her fingers splayed and found the contact points. Her touch as natural as if they had come out of matching moulds. Never mind their culture. Never mind their species. The heart finds a perfect match of its' own. He smiled gently at her then opened wide the doors to his mind. As simple as taking a single breath she entered those hallowed halls. A journey they would take together.

The presence watched them. Savoured their joining. What they called the bonds of friendship the presence called by another name. Transfixed it watched. The colours of the sunset changing, deepening in exotic hues that matched their silent passion. The melding of minds witnessed in the hushed cradle of eternity. It seemed forever before T'Pol withdrew her mind from his. They stared at each other as if seeing one another for the very first time. Awe shone on their faces. Something deeper flickered in their eyes. Neither wanted to go back to how they once had been. Trip spoke first. *That was incredible*

*Are you lonely, Trip?*

His smile was gentle. It almost glowed through the pores of his skin. His soul shining through the physical tapestry of his mortal shell with quiet happiness. *Not any more, darlin'. Not any more*


	5. All In The Mind

Ensign Hoshi Sato tried everything she could think of but Lt Reed was not responding. His eyes had that haunted look she had come to hate. His voice dull, movements lethargic. She wanted to shake him only she could not do it. His pain so palpable it hurt to look at him but it hurt more to look away. 

"Malcolm," She said gently. "You have to eat something."

He stared down at the table, not seeing the food, his thoughts elsewhere. On some vague level he was aware that she was trying to help but it did not penetrate. He felt unworthy. A failure. Hoshi looked up as Travis Mayweather came over to join them. A swift look of worry passed between him and Hoshi. "Mind if I join you?"

When Lt Reed made no response Hoshi nodded. Travis sat down on the other side of Malcolm and tried to keep the worry out of his voice. He babbled away about minutae for a few minutes, his kind eyes straying to take in the Armoury Officer's rigid frame. He felt like the background music in shopping malls. Everyone was aware of it but nobody listened. After ten minutes he trailed off. Not knowing quite what to say. Hoshi gave him a small grateful smile anyway and put a hand out to touch Malcom's hand where it rested on the table. He looked up and stared at her. Distraught. "I failed, Hoshi."

"No, you didn't. You came back to us, so will Trip."

He shook his head, the movement dislodging tears. "You don't understand. It was *my* choice." His voice broke.

Hoshi shot Travis a look of alarm. She squeezed Malcolm's hand. "What do you mean, your choice?"

He sniffed. "She asked me if I wanted to return to Enterprise. Without thinking I said of course I did then before I could qualify it I was back in sickbay."

"I don't understand why you think you did anything wrong."

He looked at her intently. His expression anguished. "Don't you? I *chose* Hoshi. I chose to leave Trip. Now he's all alone with no way back. I should have stayed to help him. At least he wouldn't have been alone."

She got up and crouched next to his chair. Tempted to put her arms around him only she knew how much he hated public displays of affection. "Malcolm, listen to me. You got out. You woke up. So will Trip."

He shook his head, crying hard now. His words punctuated by sobs. "You don't understand, he can't get out. Can't come back because she won't let him."

"She?"

"The entity. The thought form or whatever you want to call it."

Hoshi was confused. "What do *you* think is happening?"

He took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. Slowly he got a little control back. At least he had stopped crying. "I'm not going mad if that's what you're thinking."

"I wasn't. Were you thinking that Travis?"

Travis shook his head. "No. To be honest I'm just baffled."

The lieutenant nodded. He could understand that. Travis was pleased to see he looked a bit more alert. Malcolm sighed and looked down at the congealing rubbery mess that had been a pasta dish in another lifetime. So long ago. Slowly it came to him that there was only one thing he could do. Somehow or other, he had to find a way back.

* * * * *

*How is this possible, Trip?*

He shrugged, cradling her so gently in his arms. They watched the sunset together. *I don't know but do ya wanna hear somethin' funny?" She nodded against his shoulder. A smile curved his lips. He kissed her hair before continuing. His voice soft in her mind. A beautiful joyful resonance finding a home in her heart. "I'm happy here, T'Pol. Happy 'cause I'm with you."

Even though she knew exactly what he meant, how he felt, she felt impelled to caution him. *We cannot stay here forever, Ashayam*

*Ashayam?*

She dipped her head, suddenly self conscious. *It means beloved*

His heart leapt. *I like that*

*We have to go back to Enterprise, Trip*

There was a long pained pause. He stared into the deepest hues of the sunset. Wanting to lose himself in its' radiant depths but only if he could take T'Pol with him. *I don't think I wanna go back*

The admission startled her. *You love being on Enterprise*

*I know, I know* He murmured, cuddling her close to his heart. Trying to put into words the fledgling feelings that soared and swept through him just to have her near. He inhaled her sweetness, absorbed her presence and found he lacked for nothing when she was with him. The air she breathed fed him more than any banquet. One look from her was worth all the stars in heaven. With a jolt he realised he really did love her. It was not lust. Not simply liking. It was deeper, stronger, more invasive and far reaching than that. How could he return if returning meant letting her go? The Vulcan High Command would not let her take a Human for a mate. And Starfleet would not allow any fraternisation between the ranks, more so when they were two different species. The political minefield of such a romance would be fraught with problems. No. Vested interests would see to it that they would not be allowed to be together. Yet neither did he want to go sneaking around and seeing her on the sly. He wanted to climb the highest peak of the highest mountain and declare his love for all the universe to hear. But that was not his right. Not if they went back. Other people would dictate how they could lead their lives. 

T'Pol turned in his arms so that she could face him. Her small hand raised to touch his face. Her eyes fixed on his. Such a wealth of emotion in that immobile mask. The eyes taking him deep inside her soul, her heart opening before him, her thoughts cradling his with such love. Such tenderness. She did not want to hurt him but neither could she let him hide away in this sanctuary. Sooner or later his body would wither away and die no matter how many nutrients Dr Phlox pumped into it intravenously. Going back was not an option, it was the only logical course of action open to them. The saliant point was not just how it would be achieved but when. She could give him time but could not promise a future. He knew it without her saying it. Their thoughts for once silent in a shared grief. It felt odd to mourn something that had not yet died. He held her so tenderly then felt her lips touch his. The kiss slowly deepening. Tears coursing down his cheeks as they merged. He tasted something scented and spicy, such a delicate flavour. As the kiss ended he realised it was her tears.

In silence they turned and sat together to watch the sunset. All the colours bleeding together like their emotions. Hearts and minds at one. Joined by a love that transcended all borders. All divisions. All prejudices. In all of creation nothing was stronger or more glorious than love. *Why then* thought Trip, *was it so fragile?*

* * * * *

It was Captain Archer's voice that propelled Lt Reed into more mundane action. Quickly he left the sickbay just as he had entered it to check on his friend. Wondering at the anxious note in the Captain's voice. Why did he want him to go to the Commander's room when everyone knew he was still in sickbay? Nothing made sense but an order was an order. Checking the charge in his phase pistol he picked up a couple of his armoury officers and found the Captain waiting for him. He looked strained and somewhat grim faced. Lt Reed felt confused. "Sir? If I may ask, what are we doing at Commander Tucker's quarters?"

The Captain appeared somewhat distracted. "I got suspicious when she didn't show up for her duty shift. She's *never* late..."

"Who, Sir?"

The Captain continued as if he had not spoken. "I let it slide for the first fifteen, twenty minutes, then I commed her quarters."

"Who are we talking about, Captain?"

Captain Archer blinked owlishly at him. As if the lieutenant were being dense. "Sub-Commander T'Pol."

"Oh." He was still bewildered. "Sir, this is Commander Tucker's quarters."

"I know that, lieutenant." Snapped the Captain. He paused, took a deep breath, then continued in a steadier tone. Much to Lt Reed's relief. "I had Ensign Sato do a check to see where she was. The scans indicate she's in Commander Tucker's quarters."

Lt Reed's eyebrows rose to meet his hairline but it was his only outward display of shock. What would she be doing in Trip's quarters? He did not speculate. Something in the Captain's eyes warned against further inquiry. He took over immediately, the consumate professional. His voice the crisp steady assurance of an authority regularly born. "Right then let's get this door open and find out what's going on."

A quick input of the over ride code and the door swished open. It was dark inside. Dark and silent. Lt Reed paused, the Captain so close to his shoulder that he could feel the man's breath on his neck. Quickly he put the lights on and stepped right inside. He stopped suddenly, the Captain slamming into the back of him. His officers hesitating to follow. Captain Archer looked stunned. "T'Pol?"

The Sub-Commander was lying on Commander Tucker's bed. Flat on her back, eyes closed. Seemingly in a deep sleep but they all knew by now how unnatural such a sleep could be. Lt Reed was reminded of Goldilocks and the Three Bears except there was no porridge and only one bunk. He was shaken out of his reverie by the Captain pushing passed him and going over to check on the Sub-Commander. Lt Reed stepped up to the com. "Dr Phlox? Can you please come to Commander Tucker's quarters right away!"

* * * * *

He knew she was leaving. Had known the moment she arrived. Her grief was no less palpable for being unstated. Still waters really *did* run deep, he reflected. *I cannot stay, Trip*

*I know*

She paused, a hand raised to brush his cheek. Her eyes sad. An apology written in oils could not have said more. *I do not want to leave you*

*Then don't*

*I have no choice*

He nodded. Framed her elvin face between his sensitive hands and gently kissed her. Not the lust of the body but the passion of the heart. She shuddered in his hands. Her soul crying out to join with him while other forces pulled on her. Tugged her back towards a physical universe that barely knew her name. Tears caught like glistening drops of rain in the deep wells of her eyes.

*What will happen to you, beloved?*

*I don't know*

*Why can you not return?*

*Some kind of experiment, I guess*

She looked alarmed. Her distant heart murmured anxiously beneath a forgotten breast. Her eyes held his, almost pleading. *Come, before it is too late*

The tears were in his words. *I can't*

She struggled. Oh, how she struggled. But the many coloured light was fractured now. A broken prism she could not fix. If only she had the gifted hands of an engineer. She sobbed. Her throat catching on the unusual display of emotion. Her logic breaking down to more primal feelings. *I will not give him up*

Another voice intruded on her disordered mind as he faded from her. His presence seeping like a fine mist through her hands. The entity found it easy to enter the chaotic structure of the Vulcan mindset now that her safeguards had been breached. There was no longer any sign of the Commander. Yet the megallanic cloud persisted. Mocking every sunset he had ever known. *You love him*

It was a statement. Neither warm nor cold. A factual declaration she could not deny but would not share. Silence was her last refuge. Temper simmered while her heart wept. T'Pol felt the stir of air become cooler. A more solid presence which still defied her eyes. *Who are you? Show yourself!* 

The entity seemed amused but did not oblige. *Have a care Vulcan, you are in my domain*

Logic began to slot back into the measured path of her thoughts. With it came a slow return of mental control. *You are the reason he is here, aren't you?*

Silence.

*What do you want with Commander Tucker?*

*That is not your concern. Why do you care? He is Human, you are Vulcan. You distain his species*

*Not true*

*Yet I detect emotion, Vulcan*

A trace of fear outlined each heartbeat, as if fabricated as a copy to her own. A subtle deceit to rob her of the breath of life. Was she really in danger here? In this between place? *Vulcans have emotions just like other sentient beings*

*Yet you choose to obfuscate. To hide behind those feelings. Does your remote nature make you feel superior, Vulcan?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol could feel her anger rising. Tried to control it. She could not afford to be manipulated by such loss of control now. She did not want the Commander to suffer because she lacked the knowledge to defeat his foe. T'Pol heard a light tinkling sound and the air around her shimmered making her vision blur. As if something intangible and formless had stirred the air with another sight. Something that challenged her perceptions yet had no name. She blinked to regain focus and almost took a step back. Before her now was something akin to a female form but there was something wayward and androgenous about it. *Who are you?*

The entity seemed amused. The quality of voice beginning to sound more male than female yet with that ambiguity that was unsettling. *Who not what? That is hardly logical*

*Toy with me all you wish but you will release the Commander*

That amused her so much. *Release? I am not holding him*

*Do not play games. Let him go*

*And if I choose not?*

*We will take him*

Laughter trickled like water from many sources. Building into a cacophony that T'Pol found painful to her acute hearing. The entity let it die away then seemed to solidify a little more as her thoughts became more focused on the Vulcan. *What is this Human to you?*

*He is my colleague*

The entity seemed to drift a little nearer. *What is this Human to you, Vulcan?*

T'Pol blinked to refresh the liquid in her dark fathomless eyes. Emotions trapped deep within. Where all her secrets lay. *He is my friend*

Another step and the entity was less than two feet from the Vulcan. T'Pol still could not determine accurately the gender. One moment female, the next male, the next an indeterminate echo of 'something'. Not hermaphrodite surely? But close. Yes. Close. *I ask for the last time: what is the Human to you?*

There seemed to be little air reaching her lungs. It was warm. Too warm. Pearly tears of sweat pooled on her face. Her skin became too tight for her body. Her heart labouring. Her thoughts colliding with each other in a dull scramble to make sense. Had she been drugged? Was this entity poisoning her with archaic thoughts? The impulse forced her to form words she would have died to keep sacred. *I love him*

A little ease of the strain allowed her to breathe. Her heartbeat to steady. Thoughts were still the embodiment of chaos theory. Yet emotions now bled through. A sense that she had given this being an advantage in an unequal war. A war she could not win. Panic teased the edge of her consciousness with a cold fire that was both brutal and empty. Filled with the yawning chasm of future loss. The present mattered not at all while it lay in the dispassionate casual cruelty of the non-being. Only one thing was worst to her than losing the slowly emerging relationship between herself and the Commander. And that was to lose to this creature. This smiling, shifting, pit of dispair that opened before her and threatened to swallow everything that was precious to her whole. She had to stop the being. But how did you unmake the darkness? How do you touch the formless? Had she rushed only to come too late to rescue him from oblivion? The entity seemed amused.

*He will not die*

T'Pol did not believe it. The unspoken thought was examined at critical length by the entity in the space of a single heartbeat.

*Your disbelief is not fact. Nor can your passion make my tolerance the evil you apprehend*

*Let him go*

*I have not yet finished with him but you. You I will release*

Another kind of panic filled her now. He would be alone. Unable to protect himself from this being. Unable to find his way out. *No. Let me stay*

*Why would I do that?*

*I do not want to leave him alone*

*That is not the whole truth*

A pause before admitting it. *You know the whole truth*

There was a pause. Something subtle altered but T'Pol did not know what it was. *I could end his breath*

*What is it you want?*

*Knowledge. Experience. He is unique*

*All beings are unique*

That amused the entity. *From a Vulcan that is high praise*

T'Pol fell silent knowing she was being mocked. Weary beyond words. Sorrowing while she sought a means to elicit some advantage however small. Even if she and Trip were not destined to be together she could not fail him. Not now. 

*Do you wish to observe?*

She was surprised by the unexpected question. Felt a slow building sense of horror. Dread creeping into her soul at what this entity might do. Was it using Trip as a diversion? Playing with him? Was it playing with them? She kept her thoughts calm, centered, and enunciated the single word with care. *Observe?*

The entity now looked fully masculine but it had a model's grace. There was something eerily unnatural about it. The voice had taken on a new vocal register, the eyes glittered softly. Glossy black pearls in a face made pale like the milk of moonlight. Only there was no moon and no oyster to birth the pearls that now glittered with dark promise. If T'Pol had believed in the Devil she would have found its' mirror image in this one's eyes.

* * * * *

Dr Phlox was getting frustrated at having his sickbay continually taken over. The Captain was getting more and more anxious. Hovering over the Sub-Commander and generally getting in the way. Lt Reed seemed torn between his concern for the comatose Chief Engineer and the new burden of care he bore for the Vulcan. The Denobulan's patience finally snapped.

"I must *insist* you all leave this instant - and that, regrettably, includes you too Captain!"

Lt Reed jerked his head at his men and retreated with a mumbled and barely coherent apology. Captain Archer stood next to T'Pol's biobed and refused to budge. His eyes held a stubborn look. Dr Phlox barely managed to hide a sigh of frustration. "Captain, I must insist."

"And so must I. I appreciate you are just trying to do your job, doctor. So am I."

"How can your job entail preventing me doing mine?"

Captain Archer took in a stilted breath. The doctor could see how ragged his breathing was. How little control he clung to. Relenting slightly he fetched a chair and passed it to the Captain. "If you insist on staying at least sit down before you fall down. I am beginning to run out of biobeds."

He was a given a weak smile back in thanks. Vaguely he was aware of the doctor's movements but it was getting hard to take anything in except the wan face of his first officer. He closed his eyes momentarily. Would this nightmare never end? It was bad enough to lose Trip to unknown forces without losing the Sub-Commander as well. His eyes flicked open. The doctor was carefully scanning T'Pol from head to toe. He watched idly, his thoughts exploring a tangle of emotions that interfered with the easy passage of breath into his lungs. He realised with a partly surpressed shudder that he had feelings for the Vulcan. Wanted her to choose to be with him and yet she had gone to Trip's quarters. They had found her lying on his bed for God's sake! He forced himself to calm down, to take deep even breaths. To not read more into this than there was. But what if it was true? What if her feelings were for his friend and not himself? How would he cope with that? Could he step aside and let that happen? Or would he pull rank to stop it? Was either option a morally accepted route to take? Or was she concerned only as a colleague? A friend?

He felt dizzy. Head spinning. He had not slept properly since it had first happened. Now it seemed as if he would be losing random members of his crew. But would they come back like Malcolm or would they be trapped in sleep like Trip? He tried to think of a way out of this predicament but everything was becoming a dense fog. Thinking was so hard it was like an olympic event. Staying awake was even harder. Dr Phlox noticed his condition and decided to let nature take its' course. He made the Sub-Commander comfortable then turned away to check on the Commander. He had the distinct feeling that the solution lay with Commander Tucker. Not with an inflamed Captain, nor a cool but loyal Vulcan. Nor with an anxious and guilt ridden Lt Reed. He looked down at the sleeping Chief Engineer. His expression thoughtful. Watching the pale face. Noting the rapid eye movements beneath the Commander's eyelids that denoted he was dreaming. He checked the monitors carefully and gave a light shake of his head. His voice low and cordial. Barely above a whisper even though he knew it was highly unlikely that the Commander could even hear him. "Why do these things always have to happen to you, Commander?"


	6. The Tree of Knowledge

Ensign Hoshi Sato was not sure of many things but she was sure about this. She noted the stunned look on Travis Mayweather's face and could hardly blame him. The cheerful boomer had hardly touched his food. No doubt trying to fathom out whether the Tactical Armoury Officer was joking or not. Around them the mess hall was emptying but they took no notice. Hoshi put her other hand over Malcolm's, now holding his in both of hers. The added contact underlining the fact that she was there for him. Her eyes not leaving his. Willing him to listen to her every word. "You can't do that, Malcolm. What if you get trapped as well?"

His eyes were wide, staring, and so full of anguish that it hurt her to see. She knew the two men had become friends but had not realised how strong that friendship was. "I have to, Hoshi. If it was me Trip would do everything he could to get me out."

She nodded. "Yes, he would. But not by becoming trapped himself."

The lieutenant was shaking his head, getting even more anxious. His eyes beginning to lose focus. "You don't understand. I *have* to go."

"What don't I understand?"

She was alarmed by the bitterness in his voice. "This is all a game to them."

"Them?"

He blinked but did not seem to see her. "Her."

"Her?"

For a moment he went completely quiet, his body still as if straining and listening to something she could not hear. Travis gave her a worried look. She wondered if she should call Dr Phlox. Then the moment passed. Lt Reed gave a long deep breath, blinked a few times, then focused on her face. A slight smile offered in apology for his lapse. The anxiety attacks were coming closer together now. He was still linked to the Commander in some nebulous fashion. He could feel it. Sense it on the periphery of his consciousness. Yet it was a tenuous link that was grower steadily weaker the longer he remained 'out'. What would happen when it grew so fragile it broke? Would Trip die? Would he? Or would it be the end of the breadcrumbs with his friend trapped inside a nightmare that had no end? And no way out? The rest of them forced to watch over a body that would die by inches but never recover? The thoughts frightened him. It took effort to control himself emotionally. Losing it now would be of no help to the Commander. No help to him at all.

"I have to go back." 

Alarmed, Hoshi gripped his hand hard. He realised she had misunderstood him and his eyes became gentle. His tone more reassuring.

"To sickbay, Hoshi."

Realisation was slow in coming. Her eyes widened slightly then he saw a flicker of cautious relief in them. He gave her a true smile and watched her relax further though she still looked anxious. Travis sipped his coffee, a thoughtful look on his face. "What about the Sub-Commander? I hear the Captain was in quite a state. Dr Phlox had to order him to leave sickbay."

Lt Reed shot him a look which made the young man flush.

"No offence, sir." He mumbled into his coffee mug. "It's just what I heard."

The Lieutenant relaxed. Gave Travis a sheepish look. "I'm sorry Travis, just a bit on edge if you know what I mean?"

Travis nodded. He did not really understand what was going on but knew the lieutenant had been traumatised by his experiences and was now suffering pangs of guilt because he had returned unharmed and the Commander had not. Now another member of the crew appeared to be trapped. What was going on? And where would it end? Lt Reed got up abruptly. "I'm off to sickbay."

Travis gave him a serious look. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Do you believe in God?"

The young boomer looked surprised at the question. "Yes, why?"

Lt Reed gave him a little grim look then looked at Hoshi. "Then I suggest you pray."

They watched him go with mixed feelings. Travis looked at Hoshi. Her face so pale he wondered if was going to be alright. "Hosh?"

She answered without looking at him. "Yes?"

His voice took on a little boy lost quality. "Is everything going to be alright?"

She turned her head then. Saw that he was just as affected as she was. A sad smile washed her features. It was meant to reassure him but her own uncertainty was cutting her like a knife. "I don't know Travis but I hope so."

His voice became very quiet. "Do you believe in God, Hoshi?"

Something unreadable settled deep in her eyes. She was looking at him but seeing something else. "If everybody pulls through this in one piece Travis," She paused. Focusing on him again. "Then yes, I will believe in God."

* * * * *

He could not remember being so alone before. Yet in some ways it was easier like this because he had his senses filled albeit with images too fantastic to be taken from his own reality but in his imagination such vivid colours walked and breathed. And now they did so here as well. Had the entity been right after all? Had *he* created this? Was it all his fault? If so, how could he put things right so his friends would not be made to suffer? How could he wipe the slate clean and start again? His heart ached. He missed T'Pol. And in ways he could never have hitherto imagined. It pierced him deep. It brought grief to paradise.

"No other lover ever really cared  
When I've reached out for you  
You've always been there  
Now I'm so far away and  
Baby I'm scared.  
Never knew lonely 'till you..."

\- 'Never Knew Lonely' sung by Vince Gill

The entity watched him. Took note of the ebb and flow of his emotional state. Let his landscape flavour the mood, the sky changing slowly. Muted hues that soothed the ache in his heart but could not heal him. He was unaware of the presence which was formless. No borrowed images to clothe something that was too subtle for mere sight to explore. He did not detect the sifting of his thoughts, the cool whispered touch on his emotions. A sighing breath taking his heart away with dreams that would never now come to fruition. Silent tears rolled softly down his pale cheeks. He sat unmoving and made his peace with God. Wishing with all his heart that the love he had been brave enough to confess here in this netherworld had been made flesh on Enterprise. That her culture and his had not constrained them with barriers neither was able to breach. Knowing now that she loved him too was a bitter-sweet pain that made sense of dying but did not make it any less painful. Could he go back? He did not know. Would he want to go back to not knowing? To the gentle tease and friction that was the only interaction they could have? Could he do that? Would he be strong enough to let that be enough? One misplaced word. One thoughtless action. And he could ruin her career. She would be sent back to Vulcan in disgrace. Removed from the auspices of the onerous Vulcan High Command. Sent to some God-awful lonely outpost to be mentally clensed of her *crime*, her memories stripped, altered, returned to her with all the passion of a bland unfeeling face. Why? Because of him. Because he could not control the unfettered emotions now ruling his wayward human heart. And still. Knowing how much such a folly would cost them, he yearned for her. Keened for her. Broke his heart over and over again at the sweetness of a union that could never be.

"You are my love and the strength I need  
To keep me sane in this life that I lead.  
Now I'm not with you and   
My broken hearts aches  
Never knew lonely 'till you.

Never knew lonely could be so blue  
Never knew lonely could tear you in two.  
Never loved someone 'till I loved you  
Well I never knew lonely 'till you..."

\- 'Never Knew Lonely' sung by Vince Gill

* * * * *

Dr Phlox had never had such an unusual case. Professionally he was transfixed, in awe of what was seemingly taking place. Fascinated, he enjoyed the mental stimulation of seeking answers to a problem he barely understood. He badly needed to converse with the Commander but that was not an option. His limited conversations with Lt Reed had clouded the issue more than clarified. Yet, he felt that if he could only find some way to communicate with Commander Tucker most of those questions would be answered. He frowned slightly at his own fancy. Now why would he think that? It made no sense. It was not as if the Commander could be relied upon to know what had happened to him. To even recognise where he was. He thought again of Lt Reed and the things he had said on waking. Scrolled his memory back to the first time this had occurred. His thoughts were interrupted by the Captain. He resisted the temptation to sigh with frustration.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Why aren't you doing something?"

Dr Phlox blinked. Not comprehending. "I beg your pardon, Captain?"

Irritation shone through the weariness on Captain Archer's face. This whole situation was draining him not so much physically as mentally. "I said," His words hardened as he fought to control his temper. "Why aren't you doing something?"

"The Sub-Commander has lost consciousness, Captain. She appears to have entered a similar state to the Commander. This you already know."

"Yes, yes," He snapped. His frustration reaching out to whatever was closest to the intended point of impact for his fury. Right now that person was the doctor. Instinctively the Denobulan took a step back, one hand extending behind him to grab a hypospray just in case he needed it. "I don't want you to tell me what I already know *doctor*. I want you to explain what's happening and what the hell you intend to do about it!"

"I intend to find out what is causing these symptoms then treat it. To do otherwise would be irresponsible."

"Then why aren't you doing that?"

The doctor ignored the Captains's display of pique. Knew it was an emotional state he had no control over right now but it did annoy him that he had to deal with the Captain's insecurities and not devote himself solely to the task of his patients' care. He would give him a little leeway then he really would have to insist the Captain leave sickbay. "Captain, this condition is new to all of us - myself included. Have you considered the possibility it may not be medical?"

The Captain blinked. So surprised that his temper began to filter away, his mind trying to make sense of what the doctor was saying. "Are you telling me they're not sick?"

"They are *not* sick, Captain. They are not suffering from any physical illness. Whatever is affecting them has a grip on their *minds* not their bodies. This is why I have nothing to treat otherwise than ensuring their conditions are stablised and that they are having the necessary nutrients taken into their bodies. Until they wake I am powerless to help them."

Captain Archer closed his eyes and visibly sagged.

"Captain," Said the doctor gently. "I suggest you go to your quarters and rest. We could be in for a long wait and you will be unable to assist anyone if you do not take care of yourself. The lives of the entire ship's crew rests on your shoulders, Captain, not just the Sub-Commander and Commander."

It was gently said. Kindly meant. But every word was a dagger through his heart. His best friend was stuck in some kind of coma from which he would not wake. And now the Sub-Commander was trapped as well. He clasped the small hand in his, gazed at her calm face. Resisted the urge to touch her cheek, to whisper in her ear whatever inane encouragements his numb mind could fashion. He would not know what to say anyway. Had never acted on his attraction to her though God knew he had wanted to. So many times. He wondered if he would have been accepted. She respected him, he was pretty sure of that. And she had come to his aid countless times. Stood up for them against her own people even. That memory warmed him with a smile. Dr Phlox watched him curiously but said nothing. After several minutes the Captain got up and placed T'Pol's hand gently on the coverlet. His eye lingered for a moment then he walked over to Trip's biobed and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come back to us Trip, we miss you. Hell, the warp core misses you!"

He missed the odd little pinching expression on the Denobulan's face. Seconds later he was gone. Dr Phlox made sure his patients were as comfortable as possible then prepared a full bioscan for T'Pol. It had shown nothing in the Commander or Lieutenant's cases but perhaps he would find something in the Vulcan that could help explain what was happening. If nothing else it would reassure him that he was doing all he could do at this time. He tried to hide just how much that thought worried him.

* * * * *

Memories. How they haunted him like melodies playing in his mind. He was back in that tree. Then he was falling only to find the strong arms of his brother catching him. The tree. They had built a makeshift platform and hidden their little treasures. It was where he kept his harmonica that Danny had bought him. It was where they had shared their greatest adventures. As he grew older he added to the little structure, determined to turn it into the greatest damn treehouse in the whole U. S. of A. He was back there now. Sitting on the rough wooden planks. His eyes as busy as his steady hands, working out and calculating the best way to add walls then a roof. Danny had helped him of course. Then some of their friends had chipped in to add labour and encouragement, not to mention root beer and candy. Candy. How he loved that sweet confection. He remembered how proud he was when it was finished. How horrified his father was to see the ugly tilting monstrosity perched like an accident waiting to happen in the tree at the foot of their garden. That was when he had made his first hard sell.

"Charlie Tucker, that thing's gonna fall down and bury ya all beneath it! I should tear it down now."

"No, dad, please. It's solid, honest. It even takes the weight of Maurie Walters and ya know how fat he is! Please, dad. I worked it all out myself, I know she's sound."

The father had looked at the son. His own childhood memories tempering his better sense. Danny had run across the lawn to join them, adding his voice to his brother's. Then Rick and Stemmy and Maurie and Jen had joined them and before long his father had thrown his hands up in defeat. Though looking back his father had not looked that sorry to have lost. What a party celebration they had enjoyed that hot summer afternoon up in the treehouse. After they had stuffed themselves with candy and pop Danny had insisted he play something on the harmonica. So as the warm sultry breeze rifled through the branches of their makeshift paradise and rocked them he had played a haunting lilting harmony that had silenced everyone who heard it.

Danny had looked at him in awe. "What was that, Trip? Never heard such a sorrowful, beautiful piece before."

Embarrassed but pleased nonetheless he had shrugged. "It's called the Ashokan Farewell."

"The what?"

Trip smiled. They were no longer kids. He was a young man now with his eyes set on the stars and his heart set on exploring every single one of them. Sixteen years old and still sitting in tree houses. It was just him and Danny now. His other brothers were that much older and he rarely saw his sister now that she was dating that po-faced machinist down town. He never did know what she saw in him but knew his elder brothers kept a weathered eye. Just in case he stepped over the Tucker line. Tuckers always stuck together and they always looked after each other. He remembered Danny's question and his eyes took on a far away look. "It was somethin' I heard ya know? On the radio."

"Sounds kind of sad."

He nodded. "Yeah, but it sort of grabs your soul too if ya know what I mean."

The two boys nodded then Trip played something lively and the boys felt their spirits lift. But for a long time after Trip would hear the echoes of that sweet song drifting through his mind like it had a hold on his heart. He thought of it now as he gazed at the multiple sunset. He sat quietly. No more tears. No more sadness. He was all cried out. All calm acceptance. Looking down at his hands he was surprised to see his harmonica. He turned it over slowly then the oddness of it all left him and without thinking he settled into the remembered strains. Around him the light took on haunting colours to match the tone, he began to lose himself in it. One more colour bleeding into a make believe landscape that knocked reality on its' ass and left the dream firmly in its' place.

* * * * *

It was very late. Almost 1am. Lt Reed was cautious as he entered sickbay, his head turning this way and that looking for the Denobulan doctor. He did not see him. Could not hear him moving around. There was a little subdued lighting but nothing else. *The doctor must be sleeping* he thought. That suited him just fine. Quietly he stepped up to the Sub-Commander's biobed and looked at her for a long moment. Wondering why she had been in Trip's quarters. Perhaps she had gone there looking for clues? Now why hadn't he thought of that? He moved on to the next biobed and gave a little pained sigh. His friend had hardly stirred. He lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing so shallow and even that he had to hold his own breath to hear it. He looked so bloody pale. Malcolm looked around and located a chair then placed it next to Trip's biobed. Placing a hand over Trip's he pushed for the connection. His mind probing gently for his friend. Odd. Was that music he could hear?

* * * * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol was anxious. The entity seemed to be making veiled threats and yet it seemed to project an air of non-violence that was at odds with the fear she felt building inside her. *Explain what you mean by 'observe'*

*To watch, to view, to regard tentatively...*

T'Pol was shaking her head. Irritated. *That is not what I meant. I want 'your' meaning*

Talking to the entity was rather like playing chess. A game of tactics and strategy only T'Pol did not know the rules. *Perhaps I should simply show you*

Before T'Pol could try to fathom what she was intending the entity evaporated. Then gradually. Slowly. As if from very far away. She became aware of music. Turning, she found herself walking towards the sound as if her feet had no other choice. The music grew louder. The haunting melody touching her and drawing her closer and closer until she saw the multicoloured cloud that was Trip's sunset. She stopped eight to ten metres away and closed her eyes the better to listen and absorb the melody. After a couple of minutes she opened her eyes again and found herself looking at the Commander. He was facing the sunset, eyes closed, his harmonica cradled in his hands as he played. Putting his very heart and soul into his music. She felt tears prick her eyes. For him and for her though she barely knew why. She tried to take a step towards him but there was no sense of movement. It was as if she were watching through glass. Her heart faltered. Understanding dawned. 'Observing'. A chill touched her, a tendril of fear. Why was she being tormented like this? What did the entity want?

* * * * *

He had no idea how long he played but the music soothed him. Helped him to remain calm. He became aware of a light weight on his left shoulder. Raised his head and stopped playing. To his surprise Jonathan Archer was looking straight at him. His weary face strained but blossoming into a slow smile of warmth and affection when their eyes met. Trip's eyes quickly widened in disbelief.

*Jon! What in hell are ya doin' here?"

The Captain's smile turned to a grin and a soft chuckle. *I don't know, Trip. Hell. I've been going crazy trying to figure this whole nightmare out*

*Nightmare?*

The Captain sobered immediately. His eyes steady and solemn. *Yes, nightmare*

The Commander shook his head. *This isn't any nightmare, Jon*

*Then what is it?*

He shrugged. *I dunno. It's like memories and wishes and all, jumbled up and just waiting for us to dip into."

*That doesn't make sense, Trip*

His friend grinned at him. *How d'ya think I feel?*

*How do you feel?*

Trip thought about that. *I feel fine. A little confused, baffled maybe, but okay*

Captain Archer tilted his head, a thoughtful look on his face. *You do want to come back don't you, Trip?*

The Chief Engineer would not meet his eyes. Began instead to fiddle with his harmonica. *Why wouldn't I wanna come back, Cap'n?*

*Suppose you tell me*

Trip raised his head and their eyes met. Locked. Neither able to look away. A whole host of reasons flooded his mind, all of them bound up in one way or another with his burgeoning feelings for the Vulcan Sub-Commander. Only he could not tell his Captain that. Jonathan Archer might be his best friend but first and foremost he was a starship Captain. A man who always put duty before anything else. Even though he and T'Pol had never said anything about it or taken steps to act on their growing mutual attraction, he was not sure that situation would remain if he went back. What then would happen to T'Pol? Being chatised he could handle. The thought of being parted he could not.

*I want an answer, Trip?*

He swallowed hard and noticed that something in the Captain's demeanour had hardened. Flints sparked deep in his eyes unsettling the Chief Engineer though he knew not why. Then it came to him. Oh God. In here they were all telepathic. Linked thought by thought, rythym by rythym. He felt the horror slide slick and sticky through his veins as if his very blood were coagulating at the notion. Oh God, he knew. The Captain knew about his feelings for T'Pol.


	7. Catalyst

Pain. Sorrow. A variety of emotions tore through him, fragmenting the peace and calm that had been his just moments before his best friend appeared. The Captain was staring hard at him. Still waiting for an answer. Trip swallowed slowly. He felt sick to his stomach. *Ya know, don't ya?*

*Know what?*

*How I feel about T'Pol?*

*Why don't you just tell me?*

He felt his heart miss several beats. The Captain was not going to make this easy for him. Trip tried to pick up on the mix of emotions in his friend's demeanour then decided he did not have enough time to engage in such a luxury. The Captain's anger was growing though outwardly he looked so calm. He had seen him like this a couple of times before and it made him tremble inside to see that simmeriing powderkeg directed at him. *I think I'm fallin' in love with her*

*You think? Don't you know?*

The tone was sarcastic. Anger tinging the edge of it and something else. *What d'ya want me to say? I've been a perfect gentleman, never stepped out a line once*

*So you haven't kissed her?*

Yes, he was right. Definitely anger. *No* Only here.

*But you want to, don't you?" The Captain pressed.

Trip hesitated. Captain Archer frowned.

*Answer the question*

*Jon, I don't know what ya want me to say. I'm attracted to T'Pol and under any other circumstances the whole Vulcan planet wouldn't stop me from makin' a move but we don't have that luxury*

*We?* He pounced on the word.

*I mean 'I' don't have that luxury*

*You said 'we'*

*Just wishful thinkin', Cap'n*

There was a slight pause before the Captain spoke again. He was remembering how he had found the Sub-Commander asleep on Trip's bunk. In his quarters. A feeling of intense jealousy swept through him. So powerful that it surprised and unsettled him. His anger if anything sharpened. There could be no possibility of any future between himself and the Sub-Commander because of the political implications. Also, T'Pol seemed to want Trip not him. That hurt. It should not have done but it did. If he, being the Captain, was not allowed to contemplate such a relationship he was damn sure his Chief Engineer was not going to have the opportunity. Fair was fair after all. *If I find out you've been sneaking around to see her I'll have you off the ship so fast your feet won't touch the ground!*

Trip's eyes widened. Surprise. Disbelief. Sorrow. A sharp stab of pain as he realised what it meant. His friend was in deadly earnest. Realisation dawned, sickening him. *You're jealous*

*Don't be ridiculous*

*Ya can't lie to me in here, Jon*

*And you can't lie to me either. Don't forget that*

Trip could feel his temper slipping. *How can I with ya shovin' it down my throat ev'ry chance ya get?*

For a moment the Captain stared daggers at him then something inside him snapped. *On your feet, mister!*

*No. I haven't finished watchin' the sunset*

*You've finished if I say you've finished. Now on your feet!"

It seemed for a moment as if someone else was standing there not Captain Archer. The incensed man glaring at Trip with his hands bunched at his sides was a world away from the best friend he would die for. Yet he knew it was the same man. He hesitated. More troubled than he liked to admit even to himself.

*NOW, Commander!*

The barked out order drove the Commander to his feet. The reaction as automatic as breathing. Captain Archer got right in his face, a look close to hate distorting his handsome features. *I expect you to act as if there is nothing between you and the Sub-Commander. You are a professional, Commander Tucker, and you will act like one. At 'all' times*

*I'm surprised you don't tell me not to speak to her* He fired back, voice sulky and pained.

The Captain only heard his come-back as a test of his authority. Angrily he shoved Trip back. Hard. The Commander stumbled but managed to keep his feet. His temper was rising in response. *What the hell was that for?*

*Insubordination*

*Are ya crazy?*

That was it. The Captain lost it. Trip never saw the punch coming, the fist connecting solidly with his face, snapping his head back and knocking him to the ground. Captain Archer stood over him, face red and angry. *Get up!*

Trip blinked up at him. Stunned. Reached out to pick up his harmonica. 

The Captain kicked it away from his hand. *I said UP!"

*Cap'n...*

*Up!*

He nodded and got slowly to his feet. No sooner had he done so that another punch sent him flying backwards. It never occurred to him to hit back. This was his Captain. His closest friend. Each blow was like another little piece of his heart being ripped out. He felt groggy now, his split lip and eyebrow dripping in blood. Another blow connected just as a steely voice broke in followed in rapid order by the speaker himself.

*What the bloody hell is going on here?*

Captain Archer turned his head in surprise and stared at Lt Malcolm Reed. For a moment he forgot all about Trip. *Malcolm? What are you doing here?*

The lieutenant quickly assessed the situation and placed himself bodily between the Commander and his Captain. *Stopping you from killing our Chief Engineer*

He was gratified to see the Captain flush with embarrassment. *It's a private matter, Malcolm*

Lt Reed was shaking his head, his eyes flicking downward to where Commander Tucker sat on the floor making no attempt to get up. His face was battered and bruised. One eye half shut. The split lip and bloody brow adding to the mess the Captain had made of his face. The lieutenant did not like to think what other injuries he might have suffered had he not managed to join them. A cold fury burned behind the Tactical Armoury Officer's eyes but he kept his voice level and clipped. His naturally polite and efficient manner sharpened like a blade in warning. The Captain was not so foolish as to ignore the fact that in Malcolm's mind he had stepped over a most definite line. *A private matter, Captain?* He paused slightly and made a point of not looking at Trip now. *I think not. We have all been worrying and trying to find a way to bring the Commander out of this dream state. Thanks to your actions we may not be successful*

The import of what he was saying popped the Captain's self-absorbed bubble. A look of shame disolved the anger. His fists unfurled and relaxed to hang loosely at his sides as his face paled. *Oh God what have I done?* He looked at Trip. Took a step towards him but the lieutenant blocked his way.

*I think you should return to Enterprise, Captain, and let me handle this*

*I need to put this right, Malcolm*

Lt Reed nodded but did not budge. *Yes, you do but not here and not now*

*What do you mean?*

*Just go, Captain. Please. If you really are sorry I assure you it is the best thing you can do*

Trip was sitting with his eyes closed, rocking slightly back and forth. The Captain felt terrible, a deep burning shame replacing the madness that had blinded him only moments before. *Trip, I'm so sorry...*

The Commander ignored him. Ignored them both. Lost in a world of pain both emotional and physical. He did not want to interact with anybody right now. Protectively, the lieutenant watched his Captain carefully. Ready to flatten him if he tried to touch the Commander again. The Captain blinked. His look now a little sheepish. His voice much quieter than it had been.

*I really am sorry, Malcolm*

*Then prove it by going, sir*

*I won't hit him again*

*You shouldn't have hit him in the first place*

He hung his head. Knowing the lieutenant was right. His voice was quiet. Defeated. *How do I go back?*

*It varies but you could just try wanting to*

A thought occurred to him. If he could go back just by wanting to then why couldn't Trip? He remembered some of the things he had said to his friend. Mentally wincing at his own words. As if it was any business of his what feelings his friend harboured for the Vulcan Sub-Commander. Whether or not the two of them acted in an improper manner was another thing and so far, as Trip had asserted, they had not. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Mentally visualising the Enterprise and himself back on it while in his heart he was hoping that a way could be found for him to heal the damage he had done this day. He was not sure how he would survive the loss of his best friend. Was determined to do everything in his power to make sure that it did not happen. First he had to wake up. Return to Enterprise. Let Lt Reed look after Trip while he tried to come up with a way to get his Chief Engineer back. This was a nightmare. He hoped that like real nightmares it would vanish on waking. Then he would have to find a way to make it up to his friend.

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato was nervous. Travis looked across at her communications' station. Lt Anna Hess was at the Commander's station on engineering. No one was at the Tactical or Science stations and there was still no sign of the Captain. Travis broke the growing tension on the near deserted bridge. "What do you suppose is keeping the Captain?"

His voice was soft but in the silence carried easily. Hoshi tried to shrug. "A late breakfast?"

Travis Mayweather gave her a look that said she was clutching at straws.

"Maybe he went to check on the Commander in sickbay before coming on to the bridge?"

The boomer brightened up slightly, that sounded like something he might do. He smiled. "I'm sure that's where he is."

There was a pause. Hoshi's eyes drifted over to Tactical then met Lt Hess's gaze. She looked anything but happy to be there but orders were orders and right now the Chief Engineer was in no position to obey any of them so it was up to her as his second in command to make up the shortfall. But it did not explain Lt Reed's absence. Ensign Sato could feel a headache coming on.

"Have you seen Lt Reed, Lt Hess?"

She shook her head. "No, Ensign. I came up directly from Engineering."

Hoshi nodded, sighed, then decided to get a couple of the crew to check up on the whereabouts of Lt Reed and the Captain. She did not want to do it because that would be to admit her fear that somehow this nightmare was beginning to engulf them all. They should be finding solutions to the Commander's condition not more problems. Travis tried to reassure her.

"You don't know that anything happened to them, Hosh." He said gently.

She looked at him, nodded, but he could see she did not believe him. Swallowing carefully he kept his face neutral. Wanting to be strong for her. But his heart was faltering. Resolutely he pushed back his own fears and watched her open a com channel. They would have their answer soon enough.

* * * * *

Captain Archer took a deep breath then opened his eyes. He froze. Rigid with shock. Staring right back at him with a look of unrestrained anger was a diminutive but very pissed off Vulcan. *Oh God, now I find T'Pol!* He groaned.

She heard him. As clearly as if they were both awake and he had spoken out loud. *How could you do that to Commander Tucker? To your 'friend'?*

His mouth opened and closed. His mind reached for some mitigation. Anything to lessen his own culpability in her eyes but he could find nothing. Nothing. Now he realised something else. There were tears in the Sub-Commander's eyes. 'Oh my God, I've made a Vulcan cry...'

* * * * *

Lt Malcolm Reed was surprisingly gentle. He sat next to the Commander and tilted the bruised and bloody face so he could get a better look at his injuries. Though only one eye was closing Trip kept both eyes fastened shut. His friend carefully tilted the battered face first one way then the other. 

*What did you say to get him so riled up, Trip?*

A small sob caught in the back of the Commander's throat. Lt Reed gave him an anxious look.

*You don't have to answer if you don't want to* He amended quietly.

Trip spoke as if he had not heard the last sentence. *He guessed about us*

*Us?*

*Me and T'Pol*

Surprise stunned the lieutenant for a moment or two. "Let me get this right, Trip. Are you saying you and the Sub-Commander are 'an item'?*

Impossibly to Lt Reed's mind, the Commander chuckled softly then cracked open the lid on his good eye to look at him. Sometimes Lt Reed was a regular riot. *I haven't heard that expression in years, Malcolm*

*Well are you?*

Trip sighed, a deep sorrow washing over his face like some shadow of doom. *No, but it's what I want more than anythin'*

His frankness gave the Englishman pause. He picked his way carefully with his next words. Not wanting to pry too deeply nor offend his injured friend. *How does the Sub-Commander feel about that?*

*She feels the same, Malcolm. Can you imagine that? A Vulcan bein' sweet on me?*

This time Malcolm chuckled. They sat side by side in companionable silence for a few minutes before the lieutenant spoke again. *You make a terrible punch bag you know*

*Thanks* He paused *I think*

*What are you going to do?*

*About what?*

Lt Reed considered his friend for a moment. *About you and the Sub-Commander*

*Her name is T'Pol, Malcolm*

*I know her name, my friend. I was simply being respectful*

*Ya were bein' starched and pernickity*

*Alright, if it makes you feel any better. T'Pol. How does T'Pol feel about you?*

A slow smile cracked through the bruises that were inflating his face like air pumped into a balloon. Lt Reed tried not to frown too hard at him in concern. Not sure how to do first aid in the virtual reality of someone's head. 'If' that was where they were in the first place. He did not feel sure of anything right now. *She cares. Loves me even*

*You're not sure?*

*Now ya sound like the Captain*

Lt Reed fell silent. Filled with a deep brush of horror. He certainly hoped he did not sound like the Captain. Trip was his friend and there was no way he would let anyone hurt him. The fact that someone of the Captain's standing had laid hands on the Commander in such a rough undisciplined manner affected him more than he would admit even to himself. It disturbed him on several levels. The Captain was one of Trip's oldest friends as well as his senior officer. His 'best' friend in fact and he knew just how much that meant to the Commander. The depth of loyalty he felt towards the Captain. What on earth had caused him to act with such violence? What was it he was missing? *Why did Captain Archer hit you?*

*He just lost his temper, Malcolm*

*Not good enough*

*Let it be*

He sighed, put a hand on Trip's shoulder and shook his head. *I can't do that. You're my friend. I'm also supposed to be in charge of ship's security which means I'm the one who worries about everybody's safety and that - my friend - includes yours.*

*He didn't really mean it* Said Trip softly.

His voice sounded a little strained and muffled as if there were tears in the back of his throat. Not wanting to push him into crying the lieutenant put an arm around his friend's shoulder. *What am I going to do with you, Mister Tucker?* He said softly.

*Who says ya have to do anythin'?*

Malcolm thought his voice sounded a little lost. He turned his head and looked at Trip, his eyes making a critical analysis not only of his physical injuries but also his mental state. *We need to get you back to Enterprise*

*Ya think that's such a good idea with the Cap'n itchin' to knock my head off my shoulders?*

The Tactical Armoury Officer smiled. *Well you could always duck*

Trip chuckled back at him as he had hoped he would. *Reminds me of the first bit of advice I was given on enterin' Starfleet Academy*

*What was that?*

*When ya first join Starfleet and the shit hits the fan ya get covered from head to foot. When ya been in a while and the shit hits the fan ya learn to duck. But when ya been in a bit longer ya duck, look back and see who the hell got covered in shit*

Malcolm laughed, Trip joining in even though his face hurt. As his laughter came under control the lieutenant managed a little quip back. *That explains it*

*Explains what?*

*You 'definitely' should have ducked!*

* * * * *

He closed his eyes in horror. Unable to stem the tide of guilt washing through him. Could his life get any worse? For several minutes he just lay there. Then with a heavy sigh he opened his eyes. Surprised and stunned he found himself looking up at the ceiling of his quarters. What the hell...? Perhaps it had all been nothing but a bad dream after all.

Just then he became aware of a persistent buzzing noise. It invaded his consciousness like a nagging voice trying to remind him of something. The Captain turned his head, trying to locate the annoying sound and caught the time on his bedside clock. Damn! It was 1010 hours and he had overslept big time. He groaned, reached out a hand and slapped the alarm button switching it off. Oh God. He 'never' slept this late. Quickly he rolled out of bed and made for the shower. Ran the water until it was as hot as he could stand then stripped off his pajamas and stepped under the welcoming spray of heat. Grabbing the shower gel he began to pump some into his hand when he froze. Eyes widening in horror and distress. The knuckles of his right hand were red and grazed. It had not been a bad dream after all but real. He had found Trip and what had he done? Hurt him in the worst way possible. The Captain closed his eyes and leant against the wall of the shower. Tears running down his face that even the hot spray could not wash away.


	8. Forked Tongues

Sub-Commander T'Pol was trying to hide her distress but the entity knew only too well how she was feeling. It irked the Vulcan more and more and did nothing to improve her temperament. *Why did you want me to observe this?*

*You try so hard to hide your emotions, Vulcan. If you want the Human why not take him?*

T'Pol frowned. Her irritation rising. Take implied the imposition of her will on another a concept that was totally offensive to her. She was pacing back and forth. No longer able to see the Commander. Aware only that the Captain's fury was because of her. Why? She had done nothing to encourage the Captain to think she had feelings for him. Quite the contrary. And her growing feelings for the Commander had been successfully hidden from everyone including herself until the last few weeks. Looking back she could see how she had slowly mellowed towards him. Her attitude softening in subtle ways that only another Vulcan would notice. Carefully she had fought the urge to let down her defences. But in this place there was no such demarcation. Thoughts were shared, feelings exposed. No place to hide. It made her feel weak. Vulnerable. *Free*.

The entity watched her. Its' form that of a handsome male but with such conflicting features that it could easily appear femine with just a twist of its' smile or more male with a darkening of its' brow. T'Pol had been unsettled at first by it. Now she simply focused on what it had to say. The form meant nothing. *Do you want him?*

T'Pol ignored the absurdity of the question. As if the Commander was some trinket to be haggled over. He was his own person. Her indignation amused the entity.

*If you do you can have him*

The Sub-Commander stopped pacing to give the entity an icy frown. *I want you to leave the Commander alone*

*I am not doing anything to him*

T'Pol's eyebrow rose. *You have trapped him here*

*Have I?*

She frowned. More annoyed than ever. *Yes. End this game. Now*

The entity began to ripple as if its' form were insubstantial. T'Pol realised with a sense of alarm that it was leaving. Panic touched the edge of her senses. Her heart faltered. *Don't go!*

A pause then the entity assumed its' virtual form. *Why should I stay?*

*I want to help him*

*He loves you*

*Let me help him go back*

The entity looked very solemn. For once the eyes not mocking. *If he goes back you will lose him*

Pain etched a filligree of agonised thoughts in her heart. *What do you mean?*

*The Captain will make sure you cannot be together*

T'Pol was about to assert that Captain Archer would do no such thing but having seen his assault on the Commander she was not so sure. She hesitated.

*If you remain here with him you will be free to love him as you desire and he will be free to do the same. Is this not what you secretly want?*

The Sub-Commander stared at her. Eyes becoming slightly glazed and out of focus. A haunting melody teasing her consciousness percolating gently through the walls of her heart. A beloved face hovering in her mind's eye and smiling gently at her with a heart full of love. Mist blurred her sight with a longing she had spent many hours meditating to avoid. So much hung on the success of this mission. The Humans did not know how pivotal this first step would be. Allowing herself and the Commander to lose focus, even for a gloriously dizzy concept like love, was to jeopardise all. The realisation brought a sorrow of the heart wounding her so deep because she knew what she wanted she could never have. *You are the serpent in the Garden of Eden*

The entity sounded nonplussed. *Garden of Eden? What is that?*

*A Human expression of an idyllic place*

*Is it real?*

T'Pol did not know. The entity was watching the Vulcan intently. Mesmerised by how illogically the female was acting. Obviously the Human was having a very marked effect on her whether she would admit it or not. T'Pol did not answer.

*Why a serpent?*

*To Humans the serpent is a representation of that which cannot be trusted*

For a moment the entity said nothing, considering the Vulcan and the Humans. *Not so* Whispered the entity. *Let me show you*

*No!* Yelled T'Pol in an attempt to keep hold of her sanity. To not become a pawn in this creature's machinations. Whatever was happening she was determined not to be used to further the entity's desire for entertainment.

*You do not understand* Said the entity with something approaching sorrow. Knowing full well the content of the Vulcan's guarded thoughts. In this place nothing could be hidden from it. *And your lack of understanding could cost you everything you hold dear*

T'Pol opened her mouth to ask what the entity meant only to find herself staring at emptiness. She turned slowly and realised that she was alone. She closed her eyes in frustration. Willed herself to be calm then opened her eyes only to find herself closing them against the brightness of the sickbay lights. Her heart faltered, stumbling drunkenly in search of a regular beat. Her breathing sped up in direct proportion to her growing anxiety, her sorrow multiplying with imagined consequences. What had she done to be returned without resolution? Would she be able to find her way back to him or had her words of rebuttal been taken at face value firmly closing that door in her face? A voice impinged itself on her consciousness. The calm mannered voice of the Denobulan doctor brought tears to her eyes. She was back on Enterprise but the Commander, her beloved, was trapped within that creature's web.

* * * * *

Lt Anna Hess felt her eyes widening with shock. Ensign Hoshi Sato had been talking to Travis when she caught the look on the lieutenant's face and turned to see what she was staring at. It was the Captain. But any relief she might have felt at his return to the bridge vanished the moment she looked in his haunted eyes. Never had she seen him this traumatised. Travis, with his usual knack for discretion, allowed his concern to over ride any thoughts of propriety.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

The Captain blinked. Seemed to take minutes not seconds to focus on where he was. Slowly it penetrated his consciousness that the helmsman had just spoken to him. "Yes."

"You don't look it, sir. Perhaps you should see the doctor."

Hoshi shot him an apalled look. He gazed innocently back at her. What? He was only saying what they were thinking and the Captain did look as if he needed to be in sickbay rather than on the bridge. Hoshi relented. Just then Lt Hess spoke. Both her and Travis had momentarily forgotten she was there.

"Captain, has something happened?"

He looked at Commander Tucker's second. Dazed. Ashamed of himself but also completely confused. He struggled to appear calm and rational. What could he say to her? How could he even begin to explain his actions? After all, he knew he could never justify them. Not to Trip. Not to T'Pol. And certainly not to himself. He felt tears prick his eyes and realised he should not have come to the bridge. Inside he was unravelling like a ball of string. Having screwed everything else up he did not need to include them as well. So he plastered on a fake smile and avoided making direct eye contact with any of them. "If you need me I'll be in sickbay. Lieutenant you have the bridge."

They just stared as he left. Seconds passed in a numb silence. Travis looked at Hoshi. "What was that all about?"

Ensign Hoshi Sato was staring at the door, a thoughtful look on her face. "I have no idea."

* * * * *

*You should get cleaned up*

The Commander looked across at Lt Reed. A half smile parted cracked lips. *How?*

Lt Reed looked around them. The place was an empty paradise. The only constant they had seen so far had been Trip's sunset. At least, that was what Malcolm called it. He remembered something the entity had told them when they had first been drawn into this place. *You said you would not hurt him!*

Trip raised his eyebrow. It reminded Malcolm so much of T'Pol at that moment that he laughed. He frowned back. *What's so funny? And who're ya talkin' to?*

He ignored the first question in favour of the second. *The entity*

*We're alone, Malcolm*

The Armoury Officer shook his head. *No Trip, we are not alone*

He wanted to laugh he really did only he was tired, he ached, and neither sleep nor comfort were coming to him any time soon. *Course we are, she deserted us*

The lieutenant jerked his head up slowly, his voice soft and low in Trip's head. *Then who is that, my doubting friend?*

Trip looked behind him and froze. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stood not more than a couple of feet behind him. The face was a symetrical masterpiece of beauty. A soft ambient light seemed to glow up through her skin. Her eyes were warm and gentle. Her hair flaxen in colour and hanging down to her waist. He could not describe her clothing properly to his senses except to say that it was diaphanous and flowing like a living breathing thing. An extension of herself? An apparition? Somehow this was one angel that could not have been plucked from his subconscious. If he had dreamed anything this perfect he would have remembered it. *Who are you?*

A gentle smile imbued her features with a softening that melted his heart. Oh Lord he was in trouble.

*You know who I am*

He nodded. Unable to do anything else. Not so the lieutenant. *The Commander is injured. You promised he would not come to harm*

To Trip's ears Malcolm's voice sounded rough, dischordant. The words an ugly cacophony in this most beautiful of places.

*I did not, would not, harm him* Replied the entity. *I did not know his friend would hurt him*

*And if you had?* Challenged Malcolm.

She looked at him for several long moments. Trip wondered at her patience and Malcolm's daring. *He would not have been allowed to come here*

Malcolm nodded as if she had just confirmed a suspicion. *So you brought him here. Just as you brought us here*

A look of faint surprise dimmed her soft smile. *I did not bring you here*

Trip mentally shook himself. Her glamour easing its' hold on him. *Then how did we get here? Why us? Why this whole pantomime?*

The entity walked towards him until she was only inches from the Commander. He imagined he could feel the warm puff of her breath in his face. *You brought yourselves to this place. At least, your minds did*

Lt Reed was getting angry but Trip just shook his head gently at her. *Doesn't make any sense*

She reached out and touched his face. Such a gentle wisp of air brushing his bruised and battered face, the contusions blackening and darkening into angry blood enriched bruises. The blood encrusted over his swollen right eye and down from the cut brow to his chin. Her touch did not hurt him though he felt Malcolm tense next to him. Knew his friend would be on his feet and ready to throttle her if he apprehended any intent to do harm. *You should not have been injured* The entity brought her other hand up and gently framed the Commander's face. Hands not quite touching him but close enough for him to feel a rumour of her warmth.

* * * * *

Dr Phlox looked up as the door to sickbay hissed open. He straightened as he saw who it was. "Captain, I was about to call you."

The Captain barely noticed the firmness of the doctor's voice or the look in his eyes. He was distracted. Guilt was not a comfortable emotion to bear. "How is he?"

"That's what I need to talk to you about."

He looked at him now. Saw the concern in the Denobulan's eyes. Oh God, what had happened now? Dr Phlox took him behind the drawn curtain that he had set up to cut off the Commander's biobed from curious eyes. Captain Archer stopped in horror. His eyes glued to his best friend. Tears gathering like mourners at a funeral, grief shattering his fragile hold on his heart. He was trembling, eyes wide and fearful. Full of a galaxy of emotions as he looked at his friend's bruised, cut and battered face. The blood had begun to congeal where it had run from the cut brow and lip, soaking into the white linen sheet upon which his friend lay. His right eye was virtually sealed shut. A large swollen mass of heavy bruising. The Captain sucked in a deep ragged breath and had to grip the side of the biobed to steady himself. The doctor hurried to his side. Anxious at the Captain's reaction.

"Captain?"

The Captain raised a hand to ward off the doctor's concern. "You don't understand, doctor."

"Understand what?" Came the confused response, his eyes flicking from the comatose Commander to the Captain and back again.

Slowly Captain Archer turned his head and pinned the doctor with a look. "This is my doing."

Dr Phlox was so surprised that his voice came out almost a squeak. "Your doing?"

"Yes. I hit him."

The doctor held back his anger and realised something. "I do not understand. I have not left sickbay. If you had assaulted the Commander I would have seen it."

The Captain shook his head. Weary and sorrowful in equal measure. His guilt having a field day. "Not here. There."

"There? What are you talking about, Captain?"

He sighed heavily, dipped his head a moment then gazed up at the doctor through his dark lashes and gave him a rueful look. "Somehow I managed to get into the same place where Trip and Malcolm are, only I did not equit myself well. I lashed out and hurt my friend."

The doctor was more confused now than ever. "Why would you hit the Commander? That does not make any sense and it does not explain why he would have these injuries here."

"I was jealous." The moment he made the confession he felt some of the weight ease off his heart. It still made him feel sick to think that he had so lost control that he had done that. He wondered if Trip would ever forgive him. Even if he did he did not think he would be able to forgive himself. He was about to explain further when he noticed the doctor was no longer looking at him. A look of awe had come over his face. The Captain straightened up and turned to look at Trip. His mouth fell open in surprise. He watched as the injuries on the Commander's face healed then faded. A warm beautiful light glowed around him. The fabrication of air particles around the comatose man seemed to be charged with something. Electricity? Magnetism? He had no idea what it was but it made the hairs on his head and neck tingle.

"What the hell...?"

Then everything else that had happened since this impossible situation had begun was kicked into touch. A surge of vibrancy excited the air molecules and in the next moment the Commander vanished.

* * * * *

Lt Malcolm Reed just stared. He could not believe what he was seeing. One minute he had been looking at his friend, wishing he could do something to ease the pain of his injuries. The next moment the entity had made herself visible to them and healed him with a touch. Bloody hell. Better than David sodding Copperfield.

* * * * *

Sub-Commander T'Pol squinted up at the too bright lights. Wished she could close her eyes and wake up back inside the place where Trip was. But she had angered the entity. It would not entertain her presence now and she had no idea how to proceed. To bring him back. Gradually she became aware of voices. Muted but identifiable. She recognised the Denobulan's calm voice. Was startled to realise the other voice belonged to Captain Archer. She could not hear what they were saying. Turning her head she noted the curtain drawn around Commander Tucker's biobed. Shapes moved indistinctly behind the curtain. Odd words made it through but made no sense to her brain. Befuddled she fought the urge to cry.

T'Pol closed her eyes and tried to find a center of calm. To lose herself if only for a moment in the bliss of meditation. It did not surprise her when the calm would not come. Her heart aching more and more with every breath she took. Realisation driving deep within her where no obfuscation would be tolerated. She could run. She could hide. But not from herself. As she embraced the truth and opened her heart out an odd warmth stole gently over her. Sleep seducing her even as a random thought told her she should try to resist it. But she was too tired. Too emotionally drained to want to fight. Her eyes closed. Her breath changing to a deeper cadence. All sound evaporated around her as she was drawn into a deeper calm than the one she had been so frantically seeking. A slow even breath of joy expelled from lungs now relaxed yet breathing his name.

Odd. She felt something solid beneath her feet. But she was asleep. In sickbay. Her eyes popped open and she almost fell. Shock reverberated through her as she realised she was standing upright. Not only was she back in that place she was facing an equally stunned Commander Tucker. She hardly noticed Lt Reed standing less than two feet behind him. The split second of shock vanished with the flood of relief. Emotions rising to the surface that she could not quell. Without any further thought she closed the sort distance between them and looked deep into his beautiful eyes. Amazed to find he appeared whole and uninjured. He raised a hesitant hand to her cheek. She allowed it, her head tilting into his craved for touch. Her eyes glimmering with tears of joy. Joy. It was something he had never seen in such abundance on her face before.

Malcolm Reed watched in wide eyed wonder. A slow smile of happiness spreading across his face. A sense of profound satisfaction filling him with peace. His friend was healed. T'Pol was with him. All was finally right with the world. Right. His thoughts stumbled and he had to resist the urge to laugh. Not wanting to disturb their thoughts. Happy for his friends. He sat down and felt something dig into his left buttock. He put his hand down and felt for the object. A smile graced his lips as he looked at the harmonica. A far away look came into his eyes as he recalled the beautiful haunting melody that had drawn him back. Trip must have been playing it on his harmonica. He wished he could play it for him now. As the wish formed in his heart he found himself putting the instrument to his lips and closing his eyes. With a calm surety he began to softly play. The melody oozing out of him as if he were the instrument that were being played. He lost himself in the refrain. Oblivious to everything now except the haunting strains of the Ashokan Farewell.

* * * * *

Lt Anna Hess was not normally very voluble but she could not help but comment on the view they were now entranced by. The megallanic cloud was not only expanding it was changing in colour, its' many hues mimicking the sunset of a thousand distant worlds and making every heart ache with thoughts of home. "I don't believe I'm seeing this!" She said in a stunned voice.

"Believe it," Assured Travis Mayweather. "I've seen this kind of thing before just never anything on this scale."

Lt Hess sighed appreciatively. "It's beautiful. Look how the colours are changing. It's almost flowing as if there is a rythym to it..." She paused a second. "Amazing..."

Something nudged Ensign Hoshi Sato out of her appreciation of the exotic phenomena. Rythym. She blinked at the cloud. Lt Hess was right. It was pulsing almost like a heartbeat. But that was impossible, wasn't it?

* * * * *

Captain Archer found his breathing becoming more difficult. It was hard to force air into his lungs. The shock had taken a toll on him. One thing coming after another before he had the time or clarity of thought to bring reason to bear on the impossible. Dr Phlox pressed a hypospray to his neck and eased him onto a chair. The Captain was sweating profusely, his eyes were unfocused and breathing appeared to be painful albeit that he was slowing calming down.

"Captain?" He said softly.

Glazed eyes turned towards him. The doctor was not sure the Captain even saw him. "Yes, doctor?"

"How do you feel?"

He blinked. Dazed. His air intake seemed to be back to normal now. That dreadful dull ache in his chest had eased up. "Better. Thanks."

"Do you mind telling me what just happened?"

The Captain spread his hands in a little helpless gesture. "Damned if I know."

For a moment neither spoke. Each lost in his own thoughts. Then the Captain eased himself to his feet. "How is the Sub-Commander doing?"

"She has yet to wake if that's what you're asking."

He sighed. Heart heavy again. "I should see her."

The doctor nodded and pulled the curtain back. No need to section off an empty bed. He turned his head at the sound of the Captain's voice.

"Doctor? Did you release Sub-Commander T'Pol from sickbay?"

The Denobulan frowned slightly. Why would he do that? "No, Captain. Why do you ask?"

"Because the Sub-Commander isn't here."

They looked at each other. Stunned. Dr Phlox cleared his throat slowly. "Do you think...?"

"Yes." Said the Captain, his voice strained and clipped. Certainty settling in his eyes. "I think she's gone as well."


	9. One

She could hardly believe he was really with her. Whole. Solid. Real. For what seemed like an eternity they simply gazed at each other, content to drink in the others presence and feast on the treasured sight. She tilted her head the better to lean into his touch. A sweet smile bowed his lips, the radiance of his joy bathing her in a warmth she would die for. *Ya came back* He sighed directly into her waiting heart. So happy.

Her eyes danced but her heart soared. *I want to be with you, Ashayam, all the days of our lives*

She could see how much her words moved him. His emotion just made her love him more, her hands engracing him, her lips blessing his like the word of God. The kiss was so tender it was almost chaste. A soft and gentle binding of hearts. The kiss deepened, her thoughts laughing lightly in his. Such a rare pleasure he revelled in her happy state and could not get enough. *Darlin', do ya have any idea how ya make me feel?*

*Why don't you show me?*

His eyebrows rose. *Brazen hussy* He mocked lovingly.

She adored him. Her hands worshipping him. It was as if something that had been trapped and kept in darkness had suddenly found the light. Was magically freed of all restraints, unencumbered and magnificent. She gave unstintingly and he felt honoured and humbled by each gift. As she melted into his embrace she became aware of the moisture on his cheek as she loved him. She tasted the salt and grieved for each tear. *Why are you crying, beloved?*

*I just love ya so much, T'Pol. You're my life. My soul*

*As you are mine* Her thoughts hushed.

She kissed his tears slowly, his hands warming cool flesh as they disrobed each other. Gradually they became aware of the music. Trip was surprised as he recognised the strains but was willing to let it flow over them, touch them with its' beauty and pass on. He was in love and he did not care if the whole Universe knew it. T'Pol touched his face gently. He knew what she wanted but also why she hesitated. *It's okay, darlin'. If ya want it so do I*

*I do not know if a mind meld will work here, Trip*

*On'y one way to find out, sweetheart*

*I do not want to hurt you*

*I'd rather be hurt by you than loved by someone else*

He felt her humour. Dry and witty and sharp as a bagful of tacks. *That is illogical. It does not make sense*

He laughed and hugged her to his heart, so happy he thought he would burst with the sheer joy of it. Her fingers splayed across his cheek. Finding the contact points and deepening their connection as he kissed her, their bodies matching each others' planes and valleys. Hands absorbing the shock of a perfect docking manouevre. T'Pol felt her body shiver and sigh with need as her interior muscles rippled up his throbbing shaft, claiming him for her own and drawing him in. A deep possession filling her moist haven. An intense emotional desire to be bonded to him forever. He felt it like a conflagration in his mind, the flames of her regard setting him alight with something beyond mortal passion. He could feel himself opening up, falling, expanding and filling with a rush of emotions that tossed him like a leaf in a tempest. Her feelings so raw and passionate that his lungs flagged for air made more precious to him by coming from her lungs. He could not breathe without her. The blood in his veins sang the sweetest of songs, every note echoed her name. Buried deep within her vibrant heat he began to move, her tight walls rolling up and down him, robbing him of the ability to do anything but love her. No other thought existed in his head. No other imperative drove his body to fulfill their mutual need. Their hearts already one, their minds joining in a many layer cornucopia of feelings - many so subtle words could never describe them nor do them justice. Now their bodies were merging also. The combined ecstasy was beyond intense.

T'Pol was lost in a delight that shook her to within an inch of oblivion. She surfed his mind with ease, intensifying his awareness of their love making so that he would miss nothing. Their thoughts caressed each other as their bodies came to orgasm in waves of ecstasy that pounded each others' shores in an echoing concatanation. Like a tsunami, the seventh wave of the seventh wave lifted them up to crash together with such passion that they thought they had died and been reborn. They lay wrapped up in each other in a beautiful glowing post-coital bliss. Trip touched her so tenderly, caressing her with his eyes, his heart laid out before her. A final gift. The only one that mattered. She rested her head against his chest and drew him in close. Trip smiled and held her gently, his look one of such peace and content that it brought a tear to Malcolm Reed's eye. He watched over his two friends as their eyes became heavy and closed. Let them sleep. He would keep them safe. Once they woke there would be time enough to consider their options and how and when it would be best to leave this fragile paradise.

As he shook the moisture from Trip's harmonica and tapped it dry against the palm of his hand he hoped and prayed that they would find a way back and that when they did a solution could be found for his two friends. Thoughtfully he tucked the harmonica away and settled down to keep watch. His burden of care a precious thing because it was born of love. Affection. So many things Trip had taught him. As he watched them sleep his thoughts turned to the Captain. Like a cloud blocking the sun it formed a shadow over his heart. Troubled he tried to think of something else but his thoughts would not move on. There had to be a way to solve this dilemna without any of his friends getting hurt. He sighed. Looked at how their limbs had wound round each other like a Chinese puzzle. Idly he wondered if they were drawn apart whether the puzzle would fall apart. His heart ached at the thought. Frantically he prayed for them. If there was anything he could do in his power to help them he would. 

* * * * *

Dr Phlox could not understand the Captain. "What did you mean, you *did* that to the Commander?"

The Captain swallowed hard. Dr Phlox noticed he was sweating profusely but was reluctant to adminsiter another hypospray. To his relief the Captain sat down. For several moments he stared at the floor, unable or unwilling to look the doctor in the eye. At last he raised his head. "Somehow I woke up - *there*. Wherever *there* really is. It was like I was in some kind of dream."

The doctor made no comment. He was watching the Captain closely. Listening to every word but also monitoring his condition. The aching tremor of his laboured breath. Even calming down he was tense.

"Then I saw him. Trip." He broke off to master strong negative emotions. Alarmed at his returning feelings of rage, betrayal, and jealousy. He thought that once he was back those feelings would be exorcised. Gone. How little he understood still less knew. "I was incensed. How dare he think to pursue a relationship with the Sub-Commander after I had explicity reminded him of the regulations."

"Regulations?" Asked the doctor in a carefully neutral voice.

Captain Archer nodded. "Yes. Starfleet Regulations prohibit fraternisation between the ranks."

"The Sub-Commander is not Starfleet, Captain." Reminded the doctor softly.

"I... I know that, doctor." He paused and looked the Denobulan in the eye. "We've had a damn hard fight on our hands to get this far. What with the Vulcans putting obstacles in our way, holding us back from the dream of space flight." Another pause. "Something like this could blow the whole mission to hell."

"I see." Said the doctor slowly. "So your feelings, your reactions, were soley due to this consideration and the sense that the Commander had somehow gone against your direct order?"

He nodded. It was not the whole truth and they both knew it. The Captain was not quite ready to accept Dr Phlox as his Father Confessor. They lapsed into silence for a while.

"Then your anger is driven primarily by... disappointment?"

The Captain stared at him. Was that it? Disappointment? He wanted to laugh only the sound would have been bitter and would have left a ragged hole in his heart. "I was disappointed, yes."

"But that is not the whole of it?" Guessed the doctor.

"Doctor, this whole mess could blow up in our faces."

"*Our* faces or theirs, Captain?" Or do you really mean *yours*?

The Captain was a good man but at times he was so transparent. Now was one of those times. He wondered why he did not just come out and say it then he realised. He could not do that. Regulations bound him hand and foot, and heart too - seemingly. It was a conundrum but one that needed to be solved, unravelled, worked out, faced. If only to prevent others becoming tied up in its' voluminous threads and making a mockery of all their hopes stood for. Honesty was the only way he could see to move forward. But looking at his Captain he could see he was not quite there yet.

* * * * *

Lt Malcolm Reed woke slowly. He felt drowsy. His body so relaxed, his mind so happy. No. That was not the word. He thought a moment in an effort to be more precise and large smile spread across his face. No. He was content. Deeply content. He blinked up at the ceiling, dazzled, and froze. Ceiling. A feeling of dread crept over him making his skin tingle, cold and clammy. He sat up and realised he was back on Enterprise. He squinted at the sickbay lights and looked around him. Why did Dr Phlox need them this bright? He wished he could have woken in his own modest quarters. At least he would have had the privacy to adjust to his return before being bombarded with a barrage of questions he either could not or would not answer. Hope flared suddenly in his heart as a thought occurred to him but fast on its' heels came its' cousin worry. Were his friends back as well? If so, what would happen now? Would the Captain carry out his threat? He had to know, to find out. As he swung his feet off the bed he took a deep breath and wriggled his nose. Ah. Yes. Perhaps he would take a shower first. If the doctor would let him.

No sooner was he poised to stand than he froze for the second time and cocked his head to one side. Voices. Two at least. He recognised Dr Phlox but could not hear his words very clearly. The other voice shook him. It was the Captain. He noticed the other biobeds seemed to be empty with one partly curtained off at the end nearest the door. The voices were coming from behind the curtain. Just as Lt Reed was wondering whether to draw their attention to the fact that he had returned Ensign Cutler came into sickbay carrying a tray. She smiled encouragingly on seeing him awake and walked briskly over to him. "Lieutenant, we were getting worried about you. How do you feel?"

"Like I could eat the side of a cow."

She laughed lightly and Malcolm noticed the voices had stopped talking. Seconds later the rest of the curtain was drawn back and Captain Archer stared at him as if he was looking at a ghost. Not so the good doctor. Dr Phlox beamed and hurried over to him. "Lt Reed, I am pleased to see you are back with us. This is indeed good news. You had us quite worried, did you know that?"

Lt Reed was silent. He was looking at the Captain. Waiting to see where the Sword of Damocles would fall. Praying that the Captain had regained a measure of common sense on his return to Enterprise. The wary silence was beginning to become painful. If Dr Phlox noticed it he gave no sign as he bustled around the Lieutenant, checking his biosigns and making sure that he was unharmed. Ensign Cutler looked at the doctor. He gave her a tiny smile and nodded to the tray of implements she was carrying. "Those need to be sterilised, Ensign."

Grateful for his prompt she nodded, paused to smile back at Malcolm, then hurried off to continue her duties.

* * * * *

She roused him again. The whole sunset seemed to surround them now. Every direction they looked the beautiful haunting colours bled across a sky created just for them. It was like making love in the rarified atmosphere of that sunset. How weird was that? How heart achingly perfect. The ground was formless beneath them. They lay in a naked tangle of limbs, T'Pol doing things to him that he would never have dreamed possible. There was an ache and laughter in his voice as he struggled to speak. Even mind to mind she could tie him in knots with just a look. A touch. *I never knew ya were double jointed, darlin'*

An eyebrow rose striking a regal pose. He gasped lightly. Her interior muscles caressing him so tightly, sparking off sensations in his gut that had him aching for a second breath. Her muscles flexed in a slow measured control, drawing his spasm out so that he leaked gradually inside her. Unable to orgasm in his usual rush of passion. Perspiration made him shine. A bright glossy gem that pleased her immensely. Her level of control was truly something else. *Double jointed?*

*An expression, T'Pol*

He felt her amusement as her thoughts caressed his, a delicate slide that somehow matched her bodily movements. Oh God she was killing him. He closed his eyes in the sweetness of that ecstasy. Her lips bent in a kiss to revive him. *Is this too much, Ashayam?*

Eyes opened, glazed but focused on her beautiful face. He glowed with love. She shone with the gentle thrill of possession. *No, my love. Anythin' ya do to me can never be too much*

Again the eyebrow arched, this time in amusement. He loved the subtle nuances of her expressions. It thrilled him that most people would see only a blank unfeeling face but he knew differently. Recognised all the flickers of unspoken passion. He lay boneless beneath her, his breathing shallow little pants that evaporated at her touch. He closed his eyes as another contraction drew more seminal fluid from him like milk through a straw. Only he felt *everything*. All the subtle little twitches of her muscles, the flowing warmth of her own juices lapping around him. Teasing with a gentle ebb and flow like some inland sea. *Tropical waters* He thought faintly, giddy with joy. *I always liked tropical waters*

Then she was building him up to another shattering climax. Even awash with her he could not get enough and she felt the same. Spending all their pent up passion in a long slow emotional release that defied anything the universe could throw at them. The entity watched. Unseen. Unnoticed. Read their feelings and watched their gentle interaction. Interesting. The entity had never seen such a lyrical exchange of passions. Such love. Such tenderness drawn in heart, body and mind. Souls joined beyond the merging of their bodies. Instinctively they knew it already. Craved it eternally. The male and the female were truly most beautifully matched. It waited with timeless patience. Its' form veiled and lost in subtle changing hues of the sunset that bathed their conjoined bodies and clothed them with its' ambient light. When sleep eventually reclaimed them the offer would be made. The entity did not expect them to refuse.

* * * * *

Dr Phlox had been reluctant to leave them alone. At times the Captain acted irrationally and the doctor had not liked the injuries inflicted - even fleetingly - upon the now absent Commander. Was he wise to allow Lt Reed to remain alone with him? He shook himself. Captain Jonathan Archer was not a monster. Besides, the Tactical Armoury Officer was not like Commander Tucker. If the Captain tried anything the Lieutenant would not simply take it. He would react. Swiftly. Firmly. Perhaps that was what the Captain needed. A short sharp shock to bring him back to his senses.

The sickbay was praeternaturally quiet. Even the background noises of the doctor's exotic animal friends was absent. Or maybe they were just so focused on each other they had blocked everything else out. Lt Reed waited. Since being in that dreamscape with Trip he had learnt the value and pleasure of patience. A joy that brought calm to the soul. Not so the Captain. He looked agitated. Tense. An emotional tinderbox waiting for a match to ignite it. At last the Captain spoke. "Why did you come back but not Trip and T'Pol?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

Anger clouded the Captain's vision. He fought to remain calm. This was Lt Reed he was dealing with. A man with almost as much control over his passions as a Vulcan. The thought burned him. The comparrison twisted his face in a scowl. Right now Lt Reed did not like what he was seeing. He did not hate the Captain but he was not sure he would ever regain his respect for him.

"How did you manage to return, sir?"

The question threw him. As if the Lieutenant would not dare to take the proactive approach in this conversation. He was the Captain after all. Malcolm was just a Lieutenant. A subordinate. A minion. He caught himself with horror. Had he really just likened Malcolm to a minion? The Lieutenant gave him an anxious look.

"Captain? Are you alright?"

He snapped back into focus. "Yes." He shook his head and let out a great breath. It seemed to calm him just a little. "No. I'm not alright." He stared at the Lieutenant for a long moment. "I attacked my best friend, probably lost his friendship forever." He sucked in a painful breath then ran a hand through his hair. "Before you tell me what a fool I've been Malcolm, I know I have. If he never talks to me again it will be no more than I deserve."

The admission shocked the Lieutenant. A glimmer of hope rekindled. Perhaps this would not end so badly after all? The Captain was showing remorse. A good sign on a long road. Still, he was cautious. "What about the Sub-Commander?"

"T'Pol?"

He nodded. The Captain sighed.

"I've really made a mess of things, haven't I?"

"Yes sir, you have."

A ghost of a smile touched the handsome face, a little more of the tension rolling off him. "You could always let me down gently." He mused. Knowing Malcolm would do no such thing. In a way he craved the Armoury Officer's no-nonsense straight talking. It might not be what he wanted but it was what he needed. He was an intelligent man. A compassionate one. His aberrant behaviour was no mitigation for what he had done and he knew it. None of the other crew would dare to say to him what this man would. Not because he lacked respect but because he was basically an honest man. It was the essence of who and what he was. A truth that would bow to no man. Answer to no threat. A righteous man in a disingenuous universe. There was much he admired about Lt Malcolm Reed. For all his foibles no man could have a more loyal or trustworthy friend. And there was the rub. Friend. Commander Tucker had somehow breached that cool British reserve. Earned a sense of brotherhood that he had once shared. He knew that Malcolm considered Trip his best friend. That had once been his perogative. Now he had to find a way to undo all the damage he had done.

"Malcolm."

"Yes, sir?"

"How do I bring them back?"

He took his time answering. "I'm not sure you can, sir."

"That is not the answer I want to hear."

"Nevertheless Captain you must know by now that we have no control over when or how we enter that dreamscape. If that is what it is. There is something - an entity of some kind - controlling it. My suspicion would be that you would have to find a way to appeal to that entity."

"How do I do that?"

The Lieutenant paused for so long the Captain wondered if he was going to answer him. "I honestly don't know."

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato was smiling for the first time in days. She was in the mess hall with Travis Mayweather. Although she was still worried, she was also relieved. "Malcolm's back! I can't wait to see him. Perhaps he can tell us what's happened to Trip and T'Pol. Or maybe they will return any minute now."

Travis watched her animated face as she tucked into her pasta. He was not as optimistic as usual but tried to hide it. It worried him that Lt Reed had returned alone but then he reasoned so had the Captain. Maybe Hoshi was right? He nodded as he tucked into his hash browns. "Sounds good to me."

She paused. Gave him a critical look, her brow furrowing. "You *do* think they'll come back, don't you Travis?"

He swallowed awkwardly. "Sure. Why wouldn't they?"

Hoshi said nothing. Trying to batten down the rattlers stirring in her stomach. They continued their meal in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.

* * * * *

It was not until he had finally been allowed to leave sickbay and return to his own quarters that he found it. The shower was running and he was stripping off when something fell out of a pocket. He bent and froze. Eyes locked on the shiny metallic object at his feet. It was Trip's harmonica. A rush of emotion caught at his heart. Slowly he picked it up. His look almost reverential. "Bloody hell, it *was* real."

Even though he knew that they had been elsewhere he had always imagined it was a creation of the mind. Whether his, Trip's or the entity's he did not know. But he had returned and managed to bring with him a solid object. That changed everything. Different goal posts. He thought of aports, the pyschic manifestation of physical objects seemingly out of thin air. Bilocation. Objects moved from one location to another seemingly through no outside agency. Believers called it proof of the spirit world. The actions of the dead come back to haunt the living. He was not sure what to call it except that it was creeping him out. Swallowing carefully, he went to the shower and shut it off. Selecting some old sweat pants and a top he quickly pulled them on and slipped into his canvas shoes. Time to check something out. Now. Quickly. Before he lost his nerve.

* * * * *

It was odd but he felt much better. His talk with Malcolm had raised no answers but it had helped him to externalise his feelings of guilt. Find a release for the build up of anger that threatened to consume him. He was actually beginning to be able to rationalise. To detach himself from his emotions enough to see things more clearly. Dr Phlox was right. The Sub-Commander was not a member of Starfleet so technically speaking there could be no infringement of the rules of fraternisation but he knew that was like using the letter of the law to defeat the spirit of the law. He was no simpleton. He knew the meaning of right and wrong and that meant all the subtle nuances that never actually made it into the statute books. 

He smiled sadly to himself and fussed the dog. Porthos nudged his hand and gave him a pleading look. The Captain stroked his ears and leaned close, almost nose to nose with his four legged friend. "No cheese, Porthos, but how about a walk? I think you've earned it."

The little dog gave a happy bark and the Captain laughed. Letting himself out of his quarters he ambled down the corridor, the dog trotting beside him. As he walked he reviewed everything that had happened over and over in his mind. He was not surprised to find himself walking towards Commander Tucker's quarters. With both the Commander and Sub-Commnder no longer physically on the ship it was his forlorn hope that they would somehow rematerialise on Enterprise. Perhaps in their own quarters this time. He determined that he would walk passed their quarters at least twice a day just in case. It was as he was drawing level with the door that a sound caught his ear. Porthos wagged his tail and pushed his nose against the door jamb as if scenting something or someone moving about inside.

The Captain reached for his phase pistol and cursed. He had left it in his quarters. He hesitated, considered calling for security then he heard it again. Someone was definitely inside Trip's quarters. His heart leapt with hope. Perhaps it was Trip? If the Commander had returned the last thing he needed was for him to over react and raid his room with an armed security team. No. If he was sensible he would play this cool. He wanted to win his friend back not alienate him even further. He was about to ring the chime then thought better of it. Just in case whoever was in there wasn't Trip. Steeling himself he tapped in the over ride code and stepped into the room as soon as the door hissed open. What he saw froze him in shock.

Lt Malcolm Reed looked up, his expression one of distress and anxiety overlaid with surprise then shock. The Captain could not believe his eyes. Commander Tucker's quarters were a mess. Totally ransacked and the culprit was staring back at him with a guilty look. He felt his temper rising and stepped right up to the mortified man. "Lt Reed! You had better have a damn good explanation for why you are searching Commander Tucker's quarters and give me one good reason why I shouldn't throw your ass in the brig?"


	10. Confliction

He was not complaining of course. Lying in the circle of her arms was heaven. A state of bliss he never wanted to compromise. But something impinged on his consciousness. A vague trickle of thought stirring and nagging at the base of his brain but finding no ready means of expression. Elusive it slipped through the cracks of his memory before he could grasp what it was. His fingers gently, tenderly, skimming her sleeping form. His thoughts questing blindly for what was lost yet always coming back to her. She stirred and before her body fully woke her mind slid effortlessly into his, becoming sharper at the sense of his distraction.

*What is wrong, Ashayam?*

His heart ached to think that he had woken her. *Nothin' darlin' just this feelin', a sense that I should be doin' somethin'...*

He felt the curve of her smile, her body waking and rolling over his. Hips cradling as her mount rubbed softly up against him. The warm skin pricking him with pleasure and dragging a lazy smile across his face. He sighed into her mouth as she kissed him so sweetly, her hands making a delicate trail over his body and touching him in all the intimate places with just the right amount of delicious friction to arouse his lust.

*Darlin', you are insatiable*

*And you are in danger of neglecting your duties to me, Commander*

The use of his rank fragmented his rising passion. A sharp but momentary pang of guilt pushing back the fog. Her hands now stirring his body into a heavy throb of want and need while his mind was at war with his senses. He groaned deep and low in the back of his throat as her hand flexed around him shattering his wayward thoughts. He always awoke with an erection, a fact she was exploiting with no hint of apology or mercy. Distracted and aroused he flipped her over on to her back so he was now on top. He paused, lips parting from hers to grin down at her. He raised his weight off her so he could look down at her body glistening beneath him, her legs parted to receive him, her lips lush and wet and laughing up at him with love. Love. Who would have thought she could love him so much? Just looking at her was so joyous it almost hurt. She followed the movement of his eyes and decided to tease him, one hand slowly sliding down to tweak her own nipple. His eyes followed her hand. She hid a smile. The other hand sliding down between her legs and parting the rich folds of her sex, his eyes widening at her daring. He watched mesmerised as she began to titilate her sex for him, the rising moisture lubricating her fingers turning him on more and more as the thickening scent of pheromones excited the air they breathed.

*Oh God woman, what am I gonna do with ya? My mama would have a fit if she could see us now*

T'Pol laughed gently in his mind. It was such a sexy sound. He could feel himself throbbing with need. The hand on her breast moved to touch him, slide gently down the engorged sheath that bound him. The air huffed out of him but he kept his place, weight on his hands and knees, the better to watch what she was doing as beads of perspiration danced on his brow and passion sparked deep in his gentle eyes. She loved him so much. Needed him with a strength that over rode all other considerations. He was beginning to feel as if all they ever did was make love. Not that it was a bad thing it just made him think he had forgotten something. He smiled down at her, his breathing taking on a a quicker pace as he tried not to get too excited too soon. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, love her. She wanted him to wait. To watch. To move to her command. His groan deepened, a slow agony of slipping control that she revelled in. Her hand on him so assured, knowing just the right amount of pressure to bring him dancing to the edge over and over again. He was losing focus now. The head of his penis leaking. Her thumb brushed across the salty slit, his hips jerked, glazed eyes clouded over. She eased back on him, pressed the spot beneath the cap to soften his advance.

He ached and now could not complete. Her mind soothed his frustration to head off his wail of protest, her head raised just enough to align their lips as she kissed him then pulled back. *Watch me, beloved*

*This is killin' me, T'Pol*

*I will amply reward you*

That made him chuckle despite his desperation. He looked down again, saw the swirl of her fingers, her hips moving in a rythym he longed to excite. The soft gasping from her throat as she brought herself to orgasm with her hand had him growing hard again. Almost weeping. She kissed his cheek, willed him to keep watching. To hang on for her. Then she slowly drew his foreskin up and down his whole glorious aching length, the throbbing muscle pounding in her hand, warming her with his hot blood and heating the pooling sex between her legs as his hot breath fanned her cheek.

*Darlin'....* He begged.

*Ssssshhhh, control Ashayam, control*

*Ahhhh...*

Then she was brushing the head of his penis back and forth across her moist gateway. He was groaning continually now, his body wired and taut as a spring. His breathing ragged with drawn out expectation, his eyes dilating. His body consumed with desire. The equivalent to hanging on by his fingertips as she strung him out. Then, taking pity on him at last, she delved deep into his mind with her own, her hands guiding him inside her. A great moan of pleasure and relief escaped him as he buried himself inside her, pushing deep and rolling his hips then pounding in a mad erratic rush of need. Her hands gripped his hips, slowing his rythym to drag it out but not making it so slow he could not comply. It was agony. It was ecstasy. In his mind she amplified every sensation. Rocked him mind, body and soul until he was weeping as he came with fevered intensity inside her. Her body absorbing him, hugging him as he rammed deep and hard within the wet heat of her sex. Her interior muscles heightening the feeling for them both. The equisite knife edge where pleasure and pain met had never been so delicately balanced before.

The effort it took was massive. Draining all his energy in one hit. Exploding inside her as her waters wrapped around him, her legs drawing up to hug his hips tighter. Ankles locked to hold him close. As he was coming she bit his nipple and he cried out, the speed of his ejaculate driving his heat far far inside her. A smile of joy and conquest befell the moist calm of her face with high content. He sagged as he finished, her hands stroking his back and the nape of his neck as he fought for breath. The frantic tremor of his heart steadying beneath the soothing touch of her hands, the whispered endearments that huffed in his ear, the touch of sated lips savouring his perspiration. He wanted to roll off her. To save her from bearing his weight. But her arms tightened, keeping him trapped inside her. Her interior muscles holding him so tight that even as he began to soften he could not fully deflate. Half erect he lay within her and she was content. He felt guilty for squashing her. She kissed his sweaty neck and began to lick the throbbing pulse. He was close to drifting off to sleep. Exhausted but mindful ever of her needs.

*Ssshhh, sleep Ashayam. Sleep*

*Just for a minute then...* His thoughts mumbled.

He felt her smile against the side of his neck. Had never felt so loved and in more than the biblical sense.

*I love ya, T'Pol*

She nipped him gently with her teeth, slowly kissing and lapping his skin with her tongue as she closed in on his ear. He shuddered softly in her arms. Eyes closed. Her tongue lapped the shell, a slow languid wash of warm moisture. The nodules on her tongue tasting him, savouring him as he drifted off to sleep. She loved this moment. This quiet grace in the aftermath of the heat of passion. When he was hers and she was his. Not driven by sex nor the desire for possession. Nor by the will to manipulate, dominate or consume. This was the afterglow, the crucible of creation. The time when the universe blessed its' own. Peace. He had given her that along with his love. A strong, unyielding principle of fact that lived and breathed in the heart of this one good man and made her dizzy with joy. Her tongue slid down his ear canal washing back and forth, delighting her as little sleeping shivers flickered up and down his spine as he slept rewarding her tender ministrations. Yes. She loved him. Wished that he would sleep in her arms forever. Waking only to love and be loved. The wider world was not their friend but a distraction. This. This alone was real. This alone was the entire compass of her world. Gently she rolled him on to his back, her lips sliding over his face, her mind revelling in his sluggish dreams. Let him sleep. Let him rest. She would be waiting for him when he woke up. Smiling, she lay her head on his chest. Deep joy filling her as the calm and steady beat of his heart drew her effortlessly into her beloved's dream of unearthly bliss.

* * * * *

"I'm waiting *Mister* Reed!"

Lt Reed stared at his Captain. His mouth had gone dry and his heartbeat was racing in panic. He fought to calm himself down. He knew how it looked. "Captain, it's not what you think."

The Captain's eyes narrowed. His rage was a hair trigger. Lt Reed sensed the extremity of powerful emotions held loosely in check. This was not good. He kept his voice even, a calm soothing voice of reason. He hoped the Captain was not too hyped up to recognise his good intentions. "When I returned Captain I was able to bring something back with me."

For a moment there was a blank look on Captain Archer's face. "What are you talking about?"

The Armoury Officer held up the harmonica. The Captain's frown deepened. "I brought this back with me, sir."

"That's Trip's harmonica."

"Yes, sir, and the import did not strike me until half an hour ago."

He shook his head. He could feel a headache coming on. "That still doesn't explain what you're doing in Commander Tucker's quarters ransacking it."

The lieutenant flushed. "I was looking for the harmonica."

The Captain just stared at him. Did he think he was completely stupid? 

"Please," Lt Reed raised a hand. "Let me finish."

He nodded. Not sure he could trust himself to speak. Right now all he wanted to do was throttle the man. His level of anger vaguely worried him but he could not remember why.

"When the Commander and I were drawn into the dreamscape we entered into what you might term our dream bodies. Similar if you like to the way you see yourself and your friends when you are asleep and dreaming. We did not take   
anything physical into the dreamscape with us, Captain."

He watched the Captain's face, hoping he would grasp his point. There was no reaction. Malcolm swallowed. Heart sinking. Not at all sure that he would be able to get his reasoning across. But he had to try. Not just for himself but for the Commander and Sub-Commander. If they did not figure this out they might never get them back. The thought terrified him.

"Being able to bring the harmonica back with me told me two things. First, that there must be a physical side to the phenomena. I had thought it was all based in the mind. Ours or the entity we appeared to converse with. Second, what if the physical dimension had evolved from the mental one? What if the dreamscape is changing to adapt to our physical nature?"

Captain Jonathan Archer had never heard anything so preposterous in all his life. Not only did he have his second and third in command trapped in some virtual never-never land, but they also appeared to be in a relationship he had expressly forbidden them to have. On top of that his brilliant and oh-so-practical and level headed Tactical Armoury Officer was having flights of fancy at his expense. The anger that had been building and running riot inside him suddenly exploded. "How dare you insult my intelligence, Lieutenant!"

Lt Reed went completely pale. This was definitely going from bad to worse. "Captain, please, consider my reasoning."

He shoved his face in the Lieutenant's. "I have just about had enough of your prissy ideas. As for using this as some pathetic excuse to justify your actions it won't work."

Quickly, Lt Reed interjected. Anxious now to cut the Captain off mid-tirade before he had a chance to say the dreaded words that he was relieved of duty and sling him in the brig. It was a very nice brig actually but not the place he wanted or needed to be. Right now he considered himself Trip and T'Pol's last hope. Any chance that he would be able to get the Captain to come round to his way of thinking had been well and truly blown out of the water. The man was literally a walking powderkeg and he was fast running out of patience with him. Some instinct told him that time was no longer on their side. He gathered up his courage and steeled himself for one of the hardest decisions of his life. Convincing the Captain to help was no longer an option. He just had to make sure he did not get in his way. "Captain, whether you choose to believe me or not, we are in very real danger of losing both the Commander and Sub-Commander. Both of them are now physically absent from this vessel." He held up the harmonica as if by way of illustration. "If I had only known about this earlier I might have been able to bring them back with me."

To his surprise the Captain actually appeared to take note of what he was saying despite the stunned look on his face. "How?"

"The same way I brought this harmonica back with me. By touch."

"Touch?"

The Captain looked non-plussed. Malcolm had to admit he knew how he felt. It was not exactly the most logical or sensible of arguments but then it was not always a logical or sensible universe. Add to that the volatile passions of the human race and literally anything was possible. He watched the Captain begin to calm down. The fire in his eyes now a dark simmering of volcanic heat. His muscles were still bunched as if ready for action but the throbbing pulse in his jaw had muted to a dull occasional flicker. "I assume," Said the Captain carefully, fighting to keep himself calm. To concentrate on what Malcolm was saying rather than what he was feeling. "That you have a plan?"

"Well, it's not a plan as such. More an idea of one."

Seeing his Captain's face darken again he hurried to explain.

"The reason I was able to bring this harmonica back with me was because I had it on me. In my pocket to be precise."

He was relieved to see that the Captain was beginning to relax though he still looked somewhat puzzled. "What were you looking for in Trip's quarters?"

Malcolm smiled sheepishly. His personal acknowledgement to how foolish he knew it would sound. "I was looking for the harmonica Trip had left behind. If it was still here then the one I brought back with me had to be a copy, a fabrication."

"Meaning what exactly?"

"Meaning we would have to come up with some other way to bring them back."

"And if you couldn't find it?"

Lt Reed looked much happier now. Almost like the cat who had got the proverbial cream. "It would mean the physical object had aported to wherever the Commander and Sub-Commander are now."

"The dreamscape?"

"Yes. Or wherever and whatever it is."

The Captain could feel his headache getting worse. "This still doesn't make any sense to me, Lieutenant. How does this help Trip and T'Pol?"

"If physical objects can be brought back from the mental realm they currently inhabit then we should be able to bring them back with us."

"How? You said it yourself, we don't even know where they are. This is all conjecture."

"I know, Captain, but I brought the harmonica back. Don't you see?"

"Forget the damn harmonica! We're talking about real live people, Malcolm."

"I know sir." Said the Armoury Officer quietly.

Captain Archer immediately calmed down. Sensing how concerned and distraught the Englishman was over the loss of their friends. "I'm sorry, Malcolm. I shouldn't be taking my frustration out on you."

Something flickered in the Lieutenant's eye. The Captain was beginning to sound like the Captain again. "The harmonica must have vanished from Trip's room." He postulated quietly. "Now we know that both Trip and T'Pol are physically gone as well. A coincidence? I think not."

The Captain looked suddenly very weary. "Just tell me what you want me to do, Malcolm. All I want is to get our people back and never see another spacial sunset again."

A smile settled on the Armoury Officer's face then faded as grim determination took over. "First we have to find a way to get back inside."

* * * * *

He was still sleeping. Sub-Commander T'Pol had never felt this kind of happiness before. A deep sense of calm and balance and wholeness. Yes, that was the word. She gazed down at Trip's face. Relaxed in sleep the light from the coloured clouds illumed his skin and bathed him in a subtle rainbow that delighted her heart and soul. She could not stop touching him. Hands caressing, eyes drinking in every tiny sussuration of breath. The twitch of muscles and nerves as she moved over him, the subtle blending of her waking thought with his dreamy sleeping ones. Everything about him delighted her with a deep resonant joy. She had never known love before this one. Just as certainly she knew she would never know love after him. He was her t'hyla. Her heart's desire. The greater half of her soul. The better self that slumbered within her constricting logic. The eyes that danced and swept her up in merriment had also freed her to evolve into this multi-facetted being that could embrace his world in the same breath as she did her own. Only now his world was far more precious to her. Because of him. This beautiful, complex and gentle man. Mist clouded her eyes. She lightly brushed his lips with her own. Remembering all the times he had moved her, the way he made her feel. How her heart soared every time his smile sereined down upon her upturned face. 

They were still conjoined. She liked the feel of him inside her even in this inert phase. As if the very thought of physical separation was painful to her. Odd how possessive it made her feel. Interdependent in a way that made her almost believe they shared one heart not two. One pulse oxygenating two bodies. Red blood for green and green for red. A fair if exotic trade. One breath inflating both sets of lungs with the precious gift of life. On some level she knew her thoughts were complete fancy but she also knew now what it was to have hopes and dreams. Wishes only the heart could make. A sigh drifted from her lips. Loving him more with each passing second until she felt she would burst with the sheer intensity of her emotions. He stirred slowly. Her alpha and omega. Her beginning and end. She smiled, luxuriating in helping him wake in the most erotic way possible. Sliding gently off him she worked her way down. Hands, mouth, lips, teeth all conspiring to gently rouse him. His mind dreams were hers too. She orchestrated the rise and fall of his passions and like a symphony the groundswell of sensations they shared brought him achingly to the brink of release. Her tongue washed him gently, wetting him. Savouring the taste of herself on him and him on her. Her mouth warmed his cap and moistened the glossy head as she teased the slit. Her teeth gently catching him under the   
cap. Her tongue flicking out to add to the building sensations. She breathed on his cock and watched him stir as she coaxed the head to weep. Her tongue lapped at the oozing puddle, washing back and forth across his sensitive slit and encouraging him to leak still more into the happy open cavern of her laughing mouth.

His eyes opened in a slow daze. So sensitised and aroused that his erection was rock hard and aching with need. His gut tightening as she continued to tease him. She slid a hand under him to cup his testicles, her fingers rolling them gently as she kissed his weeping head. His hips shuddered slightly, his eyes widened with realisation at what she was doing. The look on his face made her laugh. The creamy white cum on hers had him chuckling in response, then she went down on him and exploded all the stars in his sky. For once leaving him speechless.

The descending spiral of mind shattering sex finally allowed him to not only get his breath back but to recover his scattered wits. He rolled her over and returned the favour, sinking into her fragrant depths, lapping at her juices as her fingers ran through his hair, her legs draped over his shoulders, hips tilted upwards to give him better access. She shivered on his tongue, her mind swamping his with hot dirty thoughts that he would not ever have dreamed her capable of before consumating their passion for each other. Another myth exploded. Literally. She lost count of how many times she came. On his tongue, round his fingers, until he only had to part her fleshy lips and gently blow on her sex for her to come for him. It was too much. Not enough. She craved. She yearned. Until it was an obssession with her. Gently he brought her back down to earth. Tired as he was, shattered as she was, there were other considerations they had to face. He knew she was avoiding that but deemed the time had come when they could put it off no longer.

She lay sated in his arms, both lying on their sides facing each other. His touch so tender it made her want to cry. He was smiling gently, his fingers caressing her cheek, his mind cradling hers in a joy so deep that it was without end. *We have to decide what we want to do, my love*

*Why? We can stay here, be happy. Be together*

He kissed her nose. A light affectionate act that was wholly Human. At least. She had never known a Vulcan indulge in such an oddly endearing action. *The Cap'n will be goin' frantic with worry. Not to mention Malcolm and Hoshi and the rest. We have a decision to make darlin' and we can't put it off any longer*

*I don't want to make a decision, Ashayam*

His voice dropped still lower. So soft she shivered. His hand moved to stroke her ear. She closed her eyes in bliss and tried to focus on what he was saying. *We don't know how long we can stay here*

Her eyes sprung open. Wide with alarm. Afraid. He cooed to her and kissed her. She sank into his embrace, tears gathering at the thought that this might somehow end.

*Hush, I'm on'y sayin' it might not that it will. We have to be prepared, darlin'. I wouldn't be much of a lover if I didn't want to make sure of our future*

He tilted her face, distressed to see mute tears rolling down her lovely face. He sighed and kissed them dry, hugging her momentarily to his heart before pulling away just far enough to watch her face.

*What do you want to do, T'Pol? Do ya wanna return to Enterpise?*

She searched his face for signs of impending grief. All she saw was an honest need. A desire to set their future in stone. *I want to be with you. Always*

He smiled and outlined her lush lips with his thumb. *So do I, darlin', so do I*

*Why are your asking me now? There is no hurry*

She caught the look on his face and her heart missed a beat. *The entity needs to know what we want, T'Pol*

*The entity?*

*Yeah. She's been watchin' over us, kind of like a guardian angel*

T'Pol did not know that concept so he described it for her. She frowned. She would not have described the entity in that fashion. Seeing her scowl he prodded her for the reason. *She does not like me*

*Ya don't know that*

*Yes, I do. She calls me 'Vulcan'. She is rude and disrespectful and she is not what she seems*

*What's that supposed to mean?*

A thoughtful look came over her face. Trip stilled his hands to watch her. *To you the entity appears female?*

He nodded. "Yeah though I don't really see her. It's this voice in my head. Why?*

*To me it appears sometimes as a female, sometimes male. Often it appears to have no gender. The form it chooses being modified to its' intent*

He was not sure what to make of that last comment. "What do you mean 'modified to its' intent'?*

She looked at him for a moment before answering. *When you wish to show a stranger that you mean no harm what do you do?*

*Excuse me?*

*What do you do, Trip? How do you approach the stranger? Gain their trust?*

*Well, I don't go brandishing a phase pistol from the get go. I keep my voice calm, try to be soothing and pleasant. No quick movements*

*Do you smile?*

*Sure*

*Why?*

*It relaxes 'em*

T'Pol nodded. *What if the entity uses gender to achieve the same result?*

He tilted his head as he regarded her. A hint of amusement in his blue eyes. *Didn't work on you though now did it?*

*I do not like being manipulated* She responded stiffly.

He chuckled. *Perhaps ya just off on the wrong foot with each other*

*What will happen if we can't decide?*

He looked sad. It hurt to see his beautiful smile overshadowed. *Then someone else will make the decision for us*

*If we go back, the Captain will part us*

*Not necessarily*

A frown deepened, she looked at him more closely. He tried hard not to squirm. *You know he will. He threatened to throw you off the ship*

*He was just mad at me. He didn't really mean it*

*I would be returned to Vulcan in shame*

His heart caught. *I wouldn't let that happen*

*You would not be able to prevent it*

Tears coursed down his cheeks before he could stop them. He buried his head in her neck and tried to stifle the sobs that threatened to break his heart. Hanging on to her for all he was worth. Unable to bear the thought of losing her. She cradled, soothed and rocked him. Had not meant to upset him with her negativity but she knew no other way to be. She loved him and as such owed him her honesty even if it inadvertently hurt him. Both now mutely took comfort in the other, their thoughts a tangle of vague and nebulous possibilities as they prepared to face up to an uncertain future.


	11. Prism

Captain Jonathan Archer definitely felt frayed around the edges. Trying to wrap his head around what was going on was wearing him out. He looked across the table of his ready room into the bright focused gaze of Lt Malcolm Reed and felt every one of his years stamped on him in triplicate. How could the man look so cool and efficient at 3am in the morning? It was beyond indecent. He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, looking up with a weary sigh as they were joined by Dr Phlox. The doctor sat next to Lt Reed and now the Captain had two pairs of sharp eyes boring into his weary ones. "Okay gentlemen, what do we know?"

Lt Reed leaned forward. He looked as crisp and fresh as if he had woken from a good night's sleep until you looked deep into those intelligent grey eyes. Then you started to see the layered depths. Whatever he was using in place of adrenaline was damn good. The Captain wished he had some. "We know that the entity or whatever it calls itself is sentient. We don't know if it is also corporeal."

The doctor interrupted politely. "With respect Lieutenant, we may be dealing with an interdimensional being as opposed to something non-corporeal."

The Captain resisted the urge to roll his eyes and yell at them. Not this again! He forced himself to remain calm. "I don't want to know what it MIGHT be but what it is. Positive information gentlemen, not conjecture. This is not a fishing trip. I want my people back and I want them back now."

Lt Reed nodded. "Precisely, sir."

The Captain blinked. 

"Going back to the harmonica..."

Captain Archer bit back a sigh and nodded instead. Inwardly he was trying not to scream.

"I want to go back and see if there is a way to drag them back *physically*."

"Lieutenant, I appreciate how frustrated you are but you can't exactly pick Trip and T'Pol up and put them in your pocket."

"No Captain, but perhaps I can explain my theory to them and lead them out. You know, a human chain."

"I don't want to pop your balloon Malcolm but you've been trying to go back ever since you woke up and nothing has worked."

The glum look on his Armoury Officer's face made the Captain wish he had bitten his tongue. "I realise that and that's been troubling me a bit, sir."

Dr Phlox looked thoughtful. "Lieutenant, correct me if I'm wrong, but when this started you woke up first. How did you go back?"

He squirmed suddenly uncomfortable. The Captain felt himself watching the Lieutenant more closely. His weariness forgotten. "I um, I could hear Trip - I mean, the Commander - talking to me."

"What?"

"At first I thought I was imagining things. It's not as if I'm telepathic or anything."

"Malcolm, why didn't you say anything about this at the time?"

He gave his Captain a sheepish look. "I didn't want you to think I'd lost it."

"Lost it?"

"Yes. After all, the Commander is my friend and we've been through some pretty hairy times together. I didn't want you to think that I couldn't hold it together because he was gone."

"I wouldn't have thought that, Lieutenant."

He dropped his head, feeling a little ashamed but not for the reason the Captain thought. "Sorry, sir." Truth be told he had not wanted to share that intimacy with anyone. It was childish he knew but was deeply personal to him. In fact he had felt somewhat bereft once the ability had left him. As if something were missing. It did not make a lot of sense and he certainly did not want anyone analysing his reasons and coming up with something that would make him feel even more dysfunctional than he already was. Yes, he was the super efficient spit and polish officer on the outside but inside he was an emotional mess. The walls he kept to keep prying eyes out had also become a prison keeping his own emotional growth stunted inside. Very few people got through. The Commander was one of the very few and he wanted to keep it that way. At least for the time being.

"Malcolm?"

He raised his head and looked the Captain in the eye. "Yes, sir?"

"What if you can't go back? What's the next step?"

He thought for a long moment. Dr Phlox was observing him closely, noticing many small details that the Captain probably missed. The Lieutenant's body language fascinating him. "Maybe I can no longer hear him," He said almost to himself. "But what if he can still hear me?"

Captain Archer looked puzzled. "I'm not sure I'm following you."

The Lieutenant's look sharpened. "If I can't find a way in perhaps I can get them to come out."

"Wouldn't they have come out already if it were that easy?"

He did not answer. Afraid to tell the Captain that the reason they had not come out might be literally staring him in the mirror every morning when he shaved. The Captain might seem back to normal but he had no idea how long that would last. He did not want to do or say anything to push him back over the edge. He had looked into the abyss once and it had not been a pretty sight. Besides, how could he tell the Captain how happy his friend was? Delirious with joy to be with the Sub-Commander in the one place that would not judge them. The one place where they could be together and not be parted. He swallowed carefully, suddenly not sure that bringing them back would be the right thing to do. But could he really leave them there? Could they survive for more than a limited period of time? What would they eat and how would they live? Or would they be trapped in that coloured cloud of light forever? Never growing old but never being free?

It was Dr Phlox who roused him out of his reverie. "Lieutenant, how were you planning to draw them out if you cannot go back and get them?"

"I was going to play the Commander's harmonica."

The room hushed. Lieutenant Reed was sure that the Captain was considering sending him to a secure unit on the backside of Alpha Centauri. Perhaps the one with the nice white rooms and padded walls. He wondered if they would give him a reading lamp. Probably not. It would be hard to turn the pages over with a straight jacket on.

"I'm not going to pretend I understand any of this but right now I'm willing to try anything." He looked at the doctor. "We've been trying to get some readings on that cloud but as far as we can determine there's nothing particularly strange about it. It appears to be a very fine debris field, probably the remnants of an ancient planetary collision. Stellar dust. We did find some residual radiation which would account for the glowing light effects but I can't even begin to explain how it changes colour or mass."

"Ensign Sato said she picked up something like background noise. When she tuned out other interference she said it reminded her of the song of a humpback whale."

The Captain stared at him. Dr Phlox looked interested and amused. The Lieutenant was absolutely sure the Captain would book him into the funny farm now. If not maybe he was waiting to get a price on group bookings? "Are you trying to tell me the cloud has been *singing*?"

"That's one way to look at it, sir, but no that was not what I was saying. Just that there is noise emanating from the megallanic cloud. The dust particles. Call it what you will. I remember when I was doing my astrological studies there was mention of something called the Music of the Spheres. It all sounded pretty fanciful back then. Not biology, chemistry or phsycis if you know what I mean."

Captain Archer was transfixed by the soft smile on his Tactical Armoury Officer's face as he got a far away look in his eyes, stepping back years in his mind's eye. "What was it Colin Whitehouse used to say? Ah yes, I remember now. *If it wriggles it's biology; if it stinks it's chemistry; if it doesn't work it's physics*."

"Lieutenant Reed!"

He jumped at the sharp tone in the Captain's voice. Flustered and embarrassed. "Um sorry, sir."

Dr Phlox smiled with amusement and could not resist a little quip of his own. "So I take it the phenomena does not wriggle, stink and doesn't work, hmm Lieutenant?"

Lt Reed flushed. The Captain hid a smile of his own and decided they really would have to try and get some sleep. Perhaps things would look brighter in the morning? Then again, perhaps the cloud would start talking to *him*?

* * * * *

The entity reminded Trip of an angel but sans wings. Such a beautiful face, her clothes sheer like fine silk but diaphonous making him think of clouds. Now why would he think that? He was staring but he could not help himself. The voice he remembered would have a body like this. T'Pol frowned, not seeing the rare creature he did but a rather superior androgenous character. She tried not to glare but for Trip's sake not out of any desire to be polite to the entity. *Who are you and what do you want with us?*

The entity gave her an enigmatic smile and looked at Trip. He smiled back and tried to make up for T'Pol's rudeness by being extra polite. Fortunately he could not see the murderous scowl this produced on his lover's face. *Beggin' your pardon but what is this place and how do we get back to our ship?*

*This is my state of being, Trip. You see what is reflected in you. None of the forms are my form, none of the colours are true. Each are approximations created out of your expectations and my largesse*

*Your what?*

*My largesse. Goodwill*

T'Pol's scowl began to fade. It was hard to continually project anger and hate at something that did not react in kind. *What do you mean we create what we see? Is this then an illusion?*

The entity smiled at her. To Trip it was beautific. A gift from on high. To T'Pol it was a smug declamation made in expression not words. It raised her hackles but she decided to rise above the rancour. Getting angry would avail them nought. *All existence is an illusion, T'Pol*

She was surprised. When on her own with the entity it always referred to her as 'Vulcan' in that half sneering contemptuous way. Was it being polite merely because Trip was with her? She could not tell and had no intention of asking. *Please, explain why we are here*

Something changed slightly in the entity's appearance. T'Pol did not know what it was but it lost some of its' superior remoteness. *You are here because of Trip*

That startled her. *I am?*

*Yes*

T'Pol frowned. *Why is Trip here?*

The entity looked at him and fell silent. It was as if her eyes were looking deep into his soul. In his head he heard her words but somehow knew they were not being broadcast to T'Pol. *You called me*

He blinked. His breathing speeding up a little along with his heart rate. How was that possible in a dream?

*You are not dreaming*

Now 'that' was downright creepy. He could feel his palms sweating. *I'm not?*

*No*

*But this isn't real*

*Is your love for the Vulcan real, Trip?*

He began to flush, half anger and half embarrassment. *That's private and yes, it is real. The most real thing that's ever happened to me*

She nodded. Her look gentle. Loving. *That is why you are here*

*I don't understand*

*That is why you cannot leave*

His heart went cold. *What? Are you saying we're prisoners here?*

*No. You are*

He started to feel angry but the entity was smiling so gently at him it washed his irritation away. He felt a deep sense of sadness touch him. *What are you tryin' to tell me?* He paused but she did not reply, letting him seek his own answers. *If I brought myself here why is T'Pol here? I never called her so shouldn't she be back on Enterprise?*

*T'Pol has free will as do you*

*What's that supposed to mean?*

*She loves you. When you did not return she found she could not remain*

*Come again?*

*She missed you, Trip. Her heart brought her here just as surely as yours did*

*None of this makes sense. Why would I want to come here?*

*This is your sunset, Trip* She said gently.

For some reason the gentle words pricked his eyes with unshed tears. T'Pol could not hear their conversation. Saw only that he appeared to be getting upset. She moved close to him, slid her hand in his. He gave her hand a squeeze of thanks but did not take his eyes off the entity. *So Malcolm was right? This really is my fault?*

*No. Not your fault. You were simply following your heart*

*Then how do I....?* But in that instant she had faded and was gone. Her words echoed softly in his heart like the first light flakes of snow before the blizzard hits. So gently did they fall until gradually the slow accumulation chilled his heart. The tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. 

T'Pol put her arms around him and held him close. Not understanding what was happening but unwilling for him to have to suffer alone. *What is going on, Ashayam?*

*I don't know but somehow this is all my fault*

*How can it be your fault? You did not create this place*

*In a way I think I did*

She stared at him. Only the haunted look of a distant pain in his eyes prevented her from disbelieving him. She pulled back just enough so that she could wipe the tears from his beloved face. *Whatever is happening, Trip, we will face it together*

*But if we go back we'll be parted* He said in a small voice. Confessing his greatest fear.

*I will never leave you. I will leave my people first*

He looked shocked. Upset that she would give up so much for him. *I can't ask ya to do that, T'Pol*

*I do not need to be asked. My choice is to be with you whatever fate may befall us*

He touched her face in wonder. Kissed her lips tenderly. Not sure what he had ever done to deserve someone as wonderful as her. He could not imagine his life any more without her in it. They were silent for what could have been minutes or hours. Time had no meaning. It was almost as if the universe had paused.

*What will you do, Trip?"

He turned the hand she rested against his cheek and kissed her palm. His eyes holding hers as passionately as his arms held her close to his heart. *We go back*

*To Enterprise?*

He nodded. Paused. Papered her face with gentle kisses then paused again, his eyes searching hers for consensus. *Only if it's what ya want as well, T'Pol. I'm not gonna railroad ya into anythin'.*

*Railroad?*

He chuckled, brushed her lips with his before explaining. *It means I'm not gonna force ya into doin' anythin' ya don't want to, darlin'.*

*If I say no?*

*Then we stay right here until the stars grow cold*

She regarded him with solemn intent knowing he meant every word. Knowing he would stand by whatever she decided even if it broke his heart to do so. What had she done to deserve a love like this? A heart so loyal and true? A man like no other. Human *or* Vulcan. Suddenly the obstacles they would be facing meant nothing at all. There was only him. Only her. She never once doubted his courage. She nodded slowly, touched a hand to his cheek. So much love in her eyes. *We will go back*

*Sure, darlin'?*

T'Pol gave him a smile. One of the gifts he knew would vanish once they returned. How he knew that he did not know, he just did. As if this place had a magic that freed them from themselves. Allowed them to step aside and see things through a glass more true. *I am sure*

His smile was sad, joyous, a little fearful but oh so proud of her. Her heart soared back at him, encompassing him in the depth and warmth of her regard. A thought occurred to her that could not be left unspoken.

*What if the entity is lying?*

*Doesn't matter*

A single elegant eyebrow lifted in surprise and disbelief. *We'll be together, darlin', and that's all that matters to me."


	12. Attraction

Lying in the circles of arms that loved him. Being held so tenderly. He drifted off on a sigh of such deep content the smile swallowed him whole. T'Pol looked at him, a faint crease of worry on her brow. Her smiling eyes grown serious with a greater burden of care. She loved him so much. The entity appeared slowly before her so as not to startle the woman nor wake the sleeping man.

*What do you want?*

*You will go back?*

T'Pol nodded.

*It will change everything*

*Why?*

*You know why*

The Vulcan tried not to sigh. A habit she had picked up from the Humans. *Because this is a dream? Is that what you are saying?*

The entity shook its' head. Although it had no expression it somehow carried a veil of sadness. *No. Just another kind of reality*

*What kind?*

*Mine*

*Yours?*

*There is so much for you to understand. So abritrary the steps between gain and loss. A turn in the road here, a word softly spoken there, a need addressed, still others ignored*

T'Pol shook her head, frowning. *You speak to me in riddles. You say this is your kind of reality yet you tell the Human it is his*

*In a way both are true*

*I neither like nor trust you. I will be manipulated no longer*

*I know*

The infinite sorrow that accompanied its' words stilled the bitter bile rising to T'Pol's mouth. Her tongue stilled. Her mind questing. Eyes searching the form before her even though she knew it was a thought form. Something created to indicate its' presence. *That is why you are sad* She said at last.

*For him. Even for you*

*Me?*

It nodded. *Perhaps you most of all*

*You don't even like me*

*That is not true. Your hostility blinds you just as his love blinds him*

An arrow pierced her heart. *What do you mean?*

*He thinks if he loves enough all will be well. Everything will turn out right. Such belief, such passion*

*He is Human*

The entity considered her for a while. *What of you, Vulcan?* It asked softly. *What is your belief, your passion?*

The Sub-Commander said nothing. Nothing at all. She held the answers in her arms and it was too precious to voice. Too dear for her to share. *Why did you come? Why bring us here?*

For a while it seemed the entity was not going to answer her. At last the response came, a fading line of thought drifting through her mind as the entity slowly vanished. *Ask him when you remember*

* * * * *

Darkness. Whole and unravelled by light. He lay for a moment staring straight up at the ceiling, trying to hang on to his thoughts and remember the incredible dream. A song had touched and brought him back to his senses. The strains becoming fainter but so hauntingly familiar they tugged at his heartstrings and stirred memories that lived and breathed in the past. Memories he would always carry with him into the future. He blinked slowly, struggling to grasp something so illusive it slipped through his fingers like fine grains of sand. It seemed to be getting lighter. Either that or his eyes were adjusting to the darkness of his room. His room. Why did that feel both comfortingly familiar and heart achingly sad? He turned his head slowly and froze in shock. Lt Malcolm Reed was sitting in a chair next to his bed. He had taken the chair from the Commander's desk and drawn it close. He was still in his Starfleet uniform but was dishevelled and rumpled as if he had been sitting there for some time. Unshaven and fast asleep the sight of him brought a soft smile of amusement and affection to the Commander's lips. The smile became a light chuckle, not wanting to disturb his friend. The lines of weariness all too obvious on his friend's sleeping face.

It was as his eyes began to take in the rest of the details that they widened and settled on the object loosely held in one of the Lieutenant's hands. Lying like a dull gleam in the Armoury Officer's lap. It was his harmonica. The one his brother Danny had bought for him so many years ago. What was Malcolm doing with it? Come to that what was Malcolm doing in his quarters watching him while he slept? Had he been ill? He turned his head and looked around. Why did his quarters look like a tornado had hit it? He sat up. Confused and a little disorientated. Had he done this? Was that why the Tactical Armoury Officer was watching over him? To make sure he didn't lose control, smash the place up? Hurt himself? A slow groan brought his attention back to the man slumped in the chair. Trip slid his legs out of the bed and sat facing his friend, a tentative hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. Needing to speak to him, to find out what had happened. What he was doing there.

Malcolm Reed came to slowly. A nagging guilt told him off for falling asleep. He fumbled with something in his hands but could not remember what he had been holding. Why wasn't he allowed to sleep? It penetrated his sluggish consciousness that he was being gently shaken. Shaken? Not stirred? A bleary eye opened. He froze. Sure his imagination had run away with him and taken all his higher brain functions with it. Bloody hell. It looked like Trip but it couldn't be. They'd lost him. Hadn't they? Excitement drove the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. He stared. A huge grin of delight spread across his face then hesitated as if unsure whether or not he really was awake. "Trip? Is that really you?"

Trip laughed. A sound Malcolm thought he would never hear in his life again. Such a beautiful sweet sound he wanted to cry with the joy of it. "Don't tell me ya were expectin' somebody else?"

He could not reply. Eyes brimming with tears he flung his arms around his friend and simply hugged him as hard as he could. Shocked, Trip was not sure what to do but instinct made him return the hug. Something had obviously happened to shake his friend. He found himself rocking the Englishman softly in his arms, trying to find words to soothe and calm him. Only when he felt the man regain his composure did he let go of him, his head tilting to get a good look at Malcolm's face.

"Ya alright now?"

Lt Reed nodded. Feeling foolish but also splendidly happy. It had worked! His plan had actually worked. He was dumbfounded and so relieved. Embarrassed to find tears running down his cheeks but not caring as he looked into the face of his friend. So damn happy to see him whole and alive and BACK. He had so many questions but so, it seemed, did Trip.

"Now, how about ya tell me what you're doin' in my quarters and why the hell it looks like a bomb hit it."

The Englishman chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm the bomb and I'm here because you've been gone three days."

He looked stunned. Three days? *Three days. You were only gone THREE DAYS!* Why did he hear T'Pol's scornful voice in his head? Then he remembered the Xyrillions. Only that was then, this was now. He focused on Malcolm. The man looked terrible. Dark shadows under his eyes. Cheeks gaunt, his look harrowed as if he had been to hell and back. A suspicion stirred in the back of his mind. "Have you been here for three days, Malcolm?"

The Lieutenant looked uncomfortable but could not lie to him. "On and off."

"More on than off by the look of things." Said the Commander. He glanced around and sighed. "When are you gonna tell me what happened to my quarters?"

Malcolm grinned back at him, running one hand through his unruly shock of dark hair. "Just as soon as we both get washed up and make ourselves decent for the Captain."

"Are we in trouble?"

Malcolm grinned. "I'm not but you might be."

Seeing his friend's expression Malcolm relented and laughed.

"No, just my idea of a bad joke. Go on, run a shower and make yourself decent."

That sounded so funny to Trip especially seeing the state of one usually crisp and pristine Armoury Officer looking very much the worse for wear. "What are ya gonna do?"

"I'll tidy up then I have to go and check on something before I tell the Captain."

Trip began to frown. What did he mean by that? Before he could ask Malcolm pushed and cajoled him in the direction of his small bathroom. "Go! Wash the stink of yourself and then get decent. I have a hundred more important things to do than babysit the Chief Engineer."

"Then why don't ya go and do them? Give a man some peace."

He missed the happy smile that softened the Lieutenant's lips. "I may just do that. In fact I'll be back in a few minutes. Don't forget to wash behind your ears."

"Yes, mama."

He chuckled, waited until he could hear the running water. Steam beginning to cloud the frosted door. Once out of Trip's quarters he broke into a run startling several crewmembers. He ignored them. Within minutes he was at the Sub-Commander's door. Suddenly nervous, palms sweating. He took a few breaths to calm down, wiping his palms on his trouser legs and trying to straighten his crumpled uniform. He rang the doorbell tentatively. Hoping against hope that bringing Trip back had brought T'Pol back as well. There was no answer. He felt his heart begin to sink. Rang it a second time, mentally counting off the seconds in his head before he would tap in the over ride code and satisfy himself with a physical inspection. He was just about to do that when the door swished open. He froze. Mouth hanging open he just stared. Sub-Commander T'Pol stared back at him. Her red silk pajamas hugging a sleepy figure that now wondered why there was a very dishevelled and vocally challenged Lieutenant opening and closing his mouth like a codfish on her doorstep.

"Lieutenant. Was there something you wanted?"

Her cool emotionless question shook him like a douse of cold water. "Yes, um no. Um yes. Once you've had a chance to shower and dress could you um meet the Captain in his Ready Room?"

She gave an abrupt almost dismissive nod then looked more closely at him. "Lieutenant, are you alright?"

He nodded, unable to stop a silly grin sliding all over his face. "Yes, yes, I am quite alright thank you." He hesitated only a moment. "Welcome back, Sub-Commander. For what it's worth we all missed you."

Her look was puzzled. "I haven't been anywhere, Lieutenant."

He tried to hide the surprise her words caused him. "No, no of course not."

He watched the door shut and closed his eyes for a moment. *Oh bloody hell* Instead of going straight back to Trip's room he went to his quarters and had a quick shower and shave. Changed into a fresh uniform while mentally bracing himself for breaking the news to his Captain. For a moment his hands froze as he smoothed down his jumpsuit, cool grey eyes assessing in the mirror. The Captain would be delighted to have Trip and T'Pol back. They all would. But how would he handle the fact that neither seemed to realise anything had happened?

* * * * *

They were in the Captain's Ready Room. Seated round the table as Captain Jonathan Archer calmly explained what had happened. Or. The best approximation thereof. No one interrupted him. The Commander stared. The Sub-Commander stared. Lt Malcolm Reed had a little happy enigmatic smile on his face. And Dr Phlox looked amused and intrigued. Typically it was Trip who broke the ring of silence.

"Are ya sayin' me and T'Pol *vanished*?"

The Captain nodded. "Yes."

Sub-Commander T'Pol frowned, a look of disapproval on her calm face. "People do not *vanish* Captain. It it illogical."

"Nevertheless," Said the doctor in a calm matter-of-fact tone. "You were gone three days, Sub-Commander."

Her eyes widened slightly. "That is impossible."

Trip looked baffled. "Where did we go? Were we abducted? What happened? And why don't we remember anything about it? Were we brain washed?"

The others exchanged a quick glance. The Captain cleared his throat quietly, effectively bringing all eyes back on himself. "In a manner of speaking. Physically you never left the ship, at least - not until the last day."

Commander Tucker forced himself to stay calm. He needed to understand this. As impossible and foolish as it sounded something had obviously happened to them. "Perhaps ya should start at the beginning, Captain?"

He caught a tiny nod from the Sub-Commander indicating her agreement with this course of action. Captain Archer bit back a sigh and looked at Lt Reed. "Malcolm, I believe you are the best person to do that."

Afterwards Trip just sat there staring at Lt Reed with a stunned expression on his face. The Sub-Commander asked many questions. Malcolm answered them as fully and truthfully as he could. Trip did not ask a single question. Occasionally T'Pol would pause and look at the Commander but when he did not say anything she would ask her next question. Hours later the meeting came to an end. The Captain told them to take the rest of the day off to allow themselves time to adjust to what had happened. He would be available if they wanted to talk further as would the doctor and Lt Reed. If they both felt up to it tomorrow they could return to their duties. Dr Phlox had, after all, given both of them a clean bill of health. The Sub-Commander excused herself saying she needed to meditate. The doctor returned to his duties in sickbay. Captain Archer looked at his stunned friend, glad that Lt Reed had remained behind to make sure he was alright. After everything that had happened, Captain Archer still felt a little uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with his friend. Trip was not the only only needing time to adjust.

"Trip, are you okay? I know this must be something of a bombshell to you but at least you both came back safe and sound."

He gave the Captain a funny look then glanced at the Armoury Officer. "So you were in there with us for a while?"

Malcolm nodded. "Yes. When you first went in I was with you."

A look of marvel glinted in his eye. "Now why do ya suppose that happened?"

He shrugged. The Captain looked amused, relaxing at the calm way his friend was taking this. He had expected a tirade. An impassioned diatribe at the very least on all the reasons why it simply could not have happened. But there had been none of that. He had simply sat there stunned with the bafflement and confusion holding hands and having a party at his expense. He trusted the Captain without reservation so if the Captain said it had happened then it had happened. No argument. Then there was Lt Reed. Malcolm. The most truthful and upright officer he had ever known and a damn good friend. He had learnt a lot about the young Armoury Officer since their fateful near-death experience in Shuttlepod One. Popsickles. They had almost been popsickles. So many times he had seen examples of this man's courage. If he could not rely upon the word of these two men, his closest friends, then he might just as well give up on ever meeting an honest man. He was lucky. Blessed. He had two.

It was Malcolm who broke his reverie. "Begging your pardon, Commander, but you haven't had anything to eat. Would you care to join me for some lunch?"

He blinked then grinned like a puppy being asked if it wanted to go for a walk. The most incredible thing had just happened to himself and the Sub-Commander and here was Malcolm talking calmly as you please asking him if he was hungry. Yep. That was Malcolm for you, God bless him. "I think I could manage a morsal or two." He glanced at the Captain. "How about joinin' us, Cap'n?"

Captain Archer smiled but shook his head. "No thanks, Trip. You go and enjoy your food. I'll catch up with you later if that's okay?"

"Fine by me."

He watched them leave. Shook his head and took a few deep breaths of relief. That had gone a lot better than he expected. Especially after the way he had lost it with Trip inside the damn dreamscape, or whatever the hell it was. They had not told Trip about that and while he was grateful he also felt guilty about keeping it from him. Maybe later when the scars no one could see had healed. For now he was just glad it was over. The entity gone. His people home and safe again. A little smile tugged at his lips at another unexpected bonus. With Trip and T'Pol not remembering anything that had happened in there he had nothing to report to either Starfleet or the Vulcan High Command on a certain relationship. As far as those two were concerned it had not happened yet and it was up to him to make sure it stayed that way. Maybe this experience had been a God-send after all. Heading off that particular catastrophe in waiting had to be in all their best interests.

* * * * *

Lt Malcolm Reed could not hide his amusement. It danced in his normally solemn eyes, was splashed across his face in a smile that would not fade, and was evident in the humour that tinged his voice as he watched the Commander demolish every bit of food in front of him. When this man was hungry he took no prisoners. "Trip, you really should chew your food before swallowing it."

Trip had just polished off desert. A plate of pancakes stacked a mile high. The last mouthful was bulging out the pockets of his cheeks. It made Malcolm want to laugh. He looked like a greedy chipmunk stuffing himself rigid as if afraid someone would appear and snatch the food from him any minute. Ensign Hoshi Sato and helmsman Travis Mayweather had joined them and been equally amused. It made their own meals looks like appertifs. Hoshi's eyes went as round as saucers. "I didn't know anyone could eat so much at one sitting."

Travis laughed and finished off his grill. Trip took three goes at swallowing the last mouthful before he could master speech. "I haven't eaten in three days if what everyone tells me is right." He looked at Malcolm who simply nodded. His smile dimishing, eyes a little sombre but still amused. "So you'll forgive me if I catch up with the rest of ya."

They talked for a few more minutes then Hoshi and Travis excused themselves. They had to go on duty. Trip watched them go then looked at Malcolm. "You're awfully quiet, Malcolm."

"How do you feel?"

Trip thought about that then grinned. "Stuffed!"

Malcolm laughed. "Serves you right for being a pig."

"A pig?" Wailed Trip as they got to their feet. A couple of heads turned but Trip and Malcolm ignored them. 

"Alright then," Said Malcolm good naturedly as they left the mess hall. "A pig's orphan."

"A pig's orphan?" Trip's voice went up an octave in righteous indignation. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Bacon and chops if you must know."

Trip gave him a mock glare. "Ha ha. How did you ever survive childhood?"

"Without you being there it was remarkably easy, Commander. And may I say, relatively painless."

"Ya know it's not very nice to disrespect a senior officer after a traumatic event."

The Lieutenant fell silent. They were going to Trip's quarters, the unspoken need to talk binding them to a single purpose. Trip regretted his words.

"Malcolm, I didn't mean..."

"It's alright. I deserved that."

"No. Ya didn't deserve that, I was just runnin' my mouth off without thinkin'. I didn't mean it how it came out. Just so's ya know, I'm sorry."

Malcolm looked at him, gave a little smile and nodded. "Consider it forgotten."

Trip opened his door and both men stepped inside in silence. For a moment they just stood inside, each lost in his thoughts. It was still a bit untidy. Without thinking about it Malcolm began to tidy up. Trip watched him for a moment then got to work putting everything back in order. In no time at all they had straightened the room and put it back as it was. Trip motioned for his friend to take a seat then glanced around his room a moment. "Why was my room in such a mess?"

He was amused to see the flush creep up Malcolm's face. "I'm afraid that was my fault."

"Your fault? What were ya lookin' for?"

He pointed to the harmonica now sitting on Trip's bedside table. "That."

Trip crossed over to his bed and sat down. Picked up the harmonica thoughtfully, remembering how surprised he had been to see it in Malcolm's hands when he woke up. "Why were ya lookin' for this?"

"It's a long story but to put it bluntly I thought it would help bring you back."

"How?"

The single word was so soft that if the room had been full of people only Malcolm would have heard it. "While we were in there together you played a tune on it. A haunting melody that I couldn't get out of my head. Took me forever to remember where I'd heard it before."

"What tune?"

"I think you called it the Ashokan Farewell."

Trip's eyebrows rose. It brought back a lot of memories. All of them rooted in the past not the present. Now why would he have been playing such a mournful soul-searching tune? "Ya said ya heard it before?"

Malcolm nodded. "At a concert of the Royal Marine's Band. I've never heard it played on a harmonica before. Thought the most beautiful rendition I'd ever heard was on the bagpipes."

"Bagpipes?"

The Lieutenant grinned. "Yes. If you ever want something to tingle up and down your spine as you listen then it has to be the bagpipes."

Trip thought about that and nodded slowly. "I think I'd like to hear that some day."

They enjoyed a companionable silence. Lt Reed wanted to ask him something but hesitated. It was probably too soon. Trip caught his hesitation. 

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"Ya had a question. I can see it in your eyes."

He was looking at the instrument cradled in Trip's hands. When he spoke his voice was quiet, gentle, hesitant. "I was just wondering, if you wouldn't mind that is, if you would play it for me."

Trip's voice came out a whisper. "You want me to play the Ashokan Farewell?"

He nodded self consciously. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."

He was stunned but if that was what his friend wanted was it really so much to ask? He decided not. Trip nodded and settled himself, eyes closing as he brought the harmonica up to his lips. The beautiful haunting strains reached right out and touched Malcolm Reed right through to his soul. His breath caught in a silent and joyous ache as he let the music carry him. As he played Trip felt himself transported to a place of great beauty. Colours more vivid than any he could remember in life flowed around him and through him as if drawn to him by the song. Then he began to remember. Snatches. Brief images. *Emotions*. He almost dropped the harmonica but continued playing, his heart opening up and tears running beneath the closed lids of his eyes as he realised what he had once had. What he had lost. Oh God. T'Pol! How could he have forgotten? Lt Malcolm Reed opened his eyes and froze as he looked at his friend's grief stricken face. Knowing in that moment that he had opened a floodgate. One that might never close again. What had he done?

In the corridor outside, Sub-Commander T'Pol was on her way to the gym. She took a short detour intending to speak to the Commander before she did so. As she approached his quarters she heard the beautiful music and stopped in her tracks. Head tilted to one side as she listened, captivated. It sounded so mournful. Gentle and sorrowful. Perhaps she would leave the Commander to his privacy for now. Time enough to speak to him tomorrow. The tune ended and she passed on. As she turned down the next corridor she changed direction and headed for the observation deck. Walking over to the large plexiglass observation window she watched the stars streak quietly by, unaware of the tears running down her face in time to a haunting melody that tore at her heart and left her bereft though she knew not why. Why couldn't she remember?

Back in his quarters Trip had finished playing. He opened his eyes to find Malcolm staring back at him with sorrowful eyes. He choked back a sob, the pain evident in his quiet voice. "You knew."

It was a statement not a question. "Yes."

"When were ya gonna tell me? About me an' T'Pol?"

"It wasn't my place, Trip." He answered quietly.

"But you're my friend, Malcolm."

"Exactly."

Trip closed his eyes as a pain almost beyond all enduring wracked him heart, mind, body and soul. Malcolm moved closer, put his arms around him and held him as he cried. Lost in the strong arms of his friend only one thought rang through his mind like a bell. Why oh why dear God, did he have to remember?

It seemed like hours before they moved apart by some mutual unspoken consent. Trip fastened red rimmed eyes on those of his friend. A mirrored understanding stripping all pretense from them. Each knew they could ask anything of the other and get an honest reply. Trip swallowed carefully trying not to give in to the pain radiating from his heart. "Will T'Pol remember?"

Malcolm gently wiped the tears from his friend's face, being careful to keep eye contact with him. "I don't know. You have to face the fact that she may never remember, my friend."

He bit back a sob. Tears again brimming in his eyes. Malcolm gave him a few moments before speaking again.

"I should tell you, Trip, that had you and the Sub-Commander remembered everything the Captain would have felt impelled to inform Starfleet as well as the Vulcan High Command of your relationship. In all probability the two of you would have been parted. Perhaps forever."

The held back tears coursed silently down his face. All colour had drained from it. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. "How could the Cap'n do that to us? Fallin' in love isn't a crime."

"He would not have had any choice, Trip." Said his friend gently. "The Captain is your friend but he is also the Captain. The Captain of the first Human starship. Keeping faith with the Vulcans is the only thing enabling us to follow our dreams, Trip. Not just yours and mine but those of Humanity itself. All of that is part of the Captain's obligation. If he did nothing and they found out it could end this mission and perhaps damage Human and Vulcan relations forever."

"What happens if T'Pol remembers?"

He was trembling. Could not help himself. Eyes wide like a frightened child's as he waited for an answer. Malcolm brushed his tears away again and rested his hands on his shoulders. "If she remembers you must bear in mind what you stand to lose if you act on those emotions and explain it to her. I know this isn't going to be easy, Trip, but I'll be here if you need me. So will the Captain." He paused, his voice very soft, full of care and sensitive to the pain of his friend. "Isn't it better to be able to see her every day, to work with her, to know that you can at least make sure she is safe, protected, even if you can never tell her why?"

Trip managed to nod. Malcolm was right. "Yeah. I guess so."

"I know so." Said Malcolm firmly.

"What do I do in the meantime, Malcolm?"

"You carry on. It's the best any of us can do, my friend."

Trip nodded. Long after Malcolm had left he sat looking out at the stars. His tears making them blurry. A great yawning ache of loneliness creeping into his heart and soul. But for the love of T'Pol he would never tell her. And for her sake he hoped, no - prayed - that she would never remember. While he would love enough for the both of them.

"You are my love and the strength that I need  
To keep me sane in the this life that I need.  
Now I'm not with you and my broken heart aches  
Never knew lonely 'till you.

Never knew lonely could be so blue  
Never knew lonely could tear you in two.  
Never loved someone 'till I loved you  
Well I never knew lonely 'till you..."

\- 'Never Knew Lonely' sung by Vince Gill


End file.
